Interlude
by ladyd10
Summary: The time between finding Ziva in Somalia and her healing and the struggle in between.
1. Chapter 1

_**INTERLUDE**_

_**A/N: Just a thought on what may have happened on the trip from Somalia back to D.C. Realistically, they would have stopped in Germany to see to not only Ziva's wounds, but Tony's and Tim's, yet Ziva could only be the most severe, and not only on the outside. I brought Abby and Ducky over to Germany because it served the short. This is complete.**_

"No. please, No!" Ziva cried. Squirming under her blankets. Her German hospital staff members had no idea on how to handle her. They scared her beyond belief. She scared them beyond belief. But this was the first step before bringing Ziva home to Bethseda.

Suddenly, she screamed at the top of her lungs and thrashed so violently that Ducky feared new broken bones. Her ribs were already broken, her left wrist completely broken and so much of her so damaged or so very broken or severely scarred, not to mention the many wounds she bore and the stitches were ripping open as she breathed... she couldn't... Her screams echoed down the corridors. The team had barely arrived as she was sent ahead with Ducky, and Ziva was terrified and unable to be calmed. She had slept fitfully on the flight from Somalia, plagued with terrible nightmares until she was sedated.

She screamed again, ripping more stitches and tearing a hole in Ducky's soul, knowing that he could not awaken her from her nightmare.

"Get the Hell away from me! Do not touch me! Go away!" She screamed at unseen assailants. Ducky did what he could and gathered his dear and broken friend (a granddaughter in his heart) in his gentle arms to try and soothe her.

"Sweetheart, you're safe now. No one will hurt you. Listen to me. It's Ducky. We have long talks over tea in autopsy," he felt her relax slightly. "That's right, my dear girl, think about a nice, soothing cup of tea."

Arriving and hearing her screams, the team ran to her room to aid her. They were terrified to find her so broken.

"Hush, Ziva, Hush dear child. You're safe now, " he whispered to her. She still struggled against him. She pushed against his gentle arms.

Suddenly, she let out blood-curdling scream. "I am dead. I must be dead because I will never see you again. I must be dead. I am dead...I am dead...I am dead. I will never see you! I am dead!"

Ducky drew her in more securely, sending pleading looks at Gibbs, DiNozzo, McGee and Abby. "You are most assuredly not dead, Ziva". Ducky relinquished her to the gentle ministrations to Abby.

Abby followed the pain and embraced Ziva, despite the painful thrashing. "No, You're not dead. You don't get out of this without knowing you're loved. Thrash away. I love you."

Ziva screamed in pain again and burrowed herself in Abby's embrace. Suddenly Abby pulled Ziva in, mindful of her injuries. She looked back at the men as the woman in her arms wept with abandon. She understood entirely. "Sometimes it's just a girl thing and you boys need to go golfing or bowling or something. It's Germany. Go on a beer crawl and have some for us. Go away. I got this. Don't be afraid. She's going to need all of us to get through this. You rescued her body. Now we need to rescue her soul."

Abby held Ziva through the terrified torrent, soothing her and assuring her that Ziva was indeed, alive and safe again. She told her that they were in Germany at the military hospital so Ziva's wounds could be seen to.

Ziva finally calmed. She lifted her left arm, heavy in a blindingly white cast. "He broke my arm?"

"Saleem? No not really. He damaged it so badly that the slightest tug would break it. Tony broke it getting you out of the camp. He feels terrible and promises to do everything for you when we get home. Don't be mad at him," Abby said, glad the Ziva had now calmed. She stroked Ziva's still filthy hair, as she hadn't been bathed yet. "We are going home just as soon as the doctors release you. I promise, Ziva. You need to come home to us."

Ziva's eyes welled with tears. In her mind's eye she did not envision Israel, but Washington D.C. as home; her place in Georgetown...that was blown up. "My home blew up. I have no home now. I have no home."

Abby was adamant. "No, no, no! Gibbs said that you could stay with him and McGee and Tony and I will be happy to let you stay until you find a place of your own. We don't turn our family out on the street, Ziva. You are family! And Ducky has that big old house! He said you could move right on in! We love you, don't you get that? Why the hell did the boys go to Somalia and risk their lives to get you? We love you and you belong to our family. We love you, Ziva."

Ziva looked into Abby's loving emerald eyes and felt herself collapse again. Abby held her up and held her through the physical pain that wracked her slender frame as she cried, yet again. Yes, this was a different Ziva from the one that left the Marine transport one short. She was no less deadly and determined, but a little broken, a little softer. She'd still threaten DiNozzo with 18 different deaths from a paperclip and tease McGee and even challenge Gibbs as she always did when she thought it right. She'd still take tea with Ducky and go to the Korean Spa with Abby, but she had been changed and she would need time to discover this new Ziva without letting totally go of the old one. Her family would be there through it all.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Interlude**_

_**Chapter 2**_

_**A/N: I had thought that this was a stand alone short. Not so much. So, the plot bunnies have been bugging me and I realise that there may be some more to tell. I have some ideas and I know where I want this to end, which is the team walking back into the bull pen, fully bringing Ziva home with Vance and everyone applauding, like at the end of Truth and Consequences. If you have some ideas to help this be a little meatier, let me know and I'll see what I can do with them. Even though I ship Tiva, this isn't necessarily a Tiva story.**_

Gibbs sat, absently playing with Ziva's fingers entwined in his own. When he had first walked into her hospital room hours ago, with a tear of fear in her eyes, she had reached out her good hand to him and he took it. At first she had clung on for dear life, trembling, shaking, but now...now, her hand relaxed in his as she fought the siren song of sleep. He watched her carefully. She still shook badly as she fought falling asleep, for some reason, and it had brought to mind Kelly and how she would fight to stay awake, especially after a nightmare. "Ziver, get some sleep. Ya gotta be exhausted."

Eyes reddened and lidded at half-mast, Ziva shook her head. "No, I am not tired. I am cold."

"Ya can't heal if ya don't sleep, David."

Ziva raised her chin in defiance. "I am not sleepy and I am cold. I cannot get warm and I do not wish to...sleep. I cannot."

Gibbs looked at her, hard. She was doing her best to hide it, but he could read her far better than most. "Talk to me. Why are you so scared?"

"I am not scared. I am cold. I cannot get warm."

Gibbs thought for a long while, realising that Ziva's body went through some serious trauma. Yeah, there were definitely horrible nightmares there, but she went through physical trauma he didn't even want to know about because it would be too painful to know, but Ducky would find it and tell him. She was held in a cramped, unventilated, hot, closed space in a place that almost daily went above 100 degrees. for four months. That was the least of it, he knew. Sure, she could be cold. She didn't know not dying of heat and extreme thirst. "Yeah, ya are," he stated simply, giving her hand a squeeze. "Been near that neighborhood. Nightmares?

Ziva looked down because she couldn't look up at him. Ironically, that was the tip of the iceburg. She wished for ice because the rest o what Ulman and his men did to her would have been better if she could not feel. She didn't want to hurt Gibbs with her being so damn weak. Why did she have to be so damn weak? She nodded.

Gibbs shook his head. Suddenly, he put down the railing separating them and sat on the bed next to her. He gently placed his arm around her and let her rest her far too weary head on his shoulder. "After what you've been through, I'd call you a liar if you said you had no nightmares. You're a strong and brave woman to admit it." He pressed the button for the Nurses' Station. When one appeared he said, gathering a shivering Ziva closer. "She needs something strong to help her to sleep and I need as many warming blankets as you have. She's spent months in the So-"

"Special Agent Gibbs, on the way. Thank you."

"I feel like a coward," she rasped into his comforting bulk."I'm so weak."

"Ah, you're not, Ziver. You're a survivor," he rasped, softly, pulling her in gently. He pulled her head down further on his chest to make sure she knew he meant what he said. "You'll be warm in a minute."

"Gibbs-"

"Nope. Go to sleep and let me worry about the monsters." He placed a fatherly kiss on the top of her now clean hair that Abby insisted she had. It was Ziva's wild, curly, untamed hair, but clean and made Ziva feel better. "Go to sleep. I've got your six."

As the warm blankets piled around her, she snuggled into Gibbs' fatherly embrace and softly fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Interlude**_

_**Chapter 3**_

There had been no nightmares; no monsters and Ziva woke to her head still pillowed on Gibbs' chest, his arm still securely around her. For the first time in four months she was blissfully comfortable. No, that wasn't it. She searched her thoughts for exactly the right word. She felt...safe. She found herself reveling in that fact and snuggled in a little deeper.

"You're awake," came Gibbs' gravelly voice.

"How long was I out?" she asked.

Gibbs hugged her a little. "Don't worry about the time."

Ziva opened her eyes and looked up to the man that was the closest thing to a father she had in the world. Eli David sent her on a virtual suicide mission into the Somalian desert and when she missed her check in time, he sent no one to find out if she lived or died. He sent no one to extract her. The man that held her as she shivered and had chased away the nightmares that she knew would plague her, not only did he care whether she even existed, but sent in Tony and McGee and even came himself to extract her. He didn't care about any intel she had gathered; he cared about her. "But I do. You must have something to do other than sit around here with me."

"Nope."

"Well how long did I sleep?" she asked again, a little more insistent this time.

"Ya really want to know, Ziver?"

"I do."

Gibbs sighed a little. Ya been out for sixteen hours. Before you panic, I got shut eye, too. I needed it and you needed it."

Ziva was aghast. "_Sixteen hours_? Why did you allow me to sleep that long?"

"Ya needed it."

Ziva let that sink in for a few moments. "I do not think I actually slept that amount of time in Saleem's camp. I was never allowed to sleep more than an hour or two at a time unless there was something going on and Saleem needed to pull too many men. I would maybe get three or four hours before they would kick me awake. Sometimes they'd punch me or pull me by my hair...and sometimes they'd be more...creative." She let out an involuntary shiver.

"Don't go there just yet, Ziver; not if you don't want to," Gibbs said, feeling that shiver run through her. He couldn't tell if it was because of the memory or because she was still cold. He could clearly guess what horrible things those men did to her. DiNozzo and McGee had to carry her out of the building and she couldn't walk at all, even though she put up a weak protest. Gibbs remembered how light she was when he handed his Kate off to DiNozzo to carry as he hefted Ziva in his arms. She was never a heavy woman, to begin with, but now she felt almost child-like. She lost a good deal of weight. Even now, with her leaning on him for so many hours, she was no burden. "You don't have to say anything about it."

She closed her eyes and sighed softly. "I am ready to. Just a little, please, Gibbs. If I do not talk a little I think I might go mad."

"Ziva-"

"Let me begin. It is now or never. I will start with me captured and brought into the camp," Ziva began, her voice soft but strong. "They had jumped me, ambushed me, and beaten me unconscious. When I awoke, I had a cloth bag over my head and my hands were bound. I hurt everywhere. I suppose they kept beating me after I lost consciousness because I hurt in places that I do not remember being hit while I was awake.

"Saleem had me thrown into my cell, head still in the bag and left to become afraid. I do not know how long I laid there. There was no accounting for time. I do not even how long he held me. What is today's date?"

Gibbs kissed her hair. "September 24, 2009."

Another, stronger shudder wracked her frame. "Oh, God. He had me almost four months. Oh, God." She buried her face in Gibbs' chest and flinched when he gently began to stroke her hair.

"Ya don't need to say anymore," he said in a whisper.

She lifted her head. "No, it was just a shock knowing how long I had been there. I can continue. After I do not know how long, Saleem had me dragged into his interrogation room and tied to a chair. He tore the bag off my head and then demanded something I had no idea he would ever ask. He did not want to know about my father, Mossad or Mossad operations in North Africa. He wanted to know all about NCIS. I refused him, of course and he had one of his men beat me until I nearly lost consciousness again. He shot me full of adrenaline and brought me around. He had ripped my Star of David necklace off of me, threw it on the ground and stepped on it." Ziva paused, feeling herself close to tears. After a moment, she continued. "Eli gave me that pendant for my Bat Mitzvah and it meant the world to me. He spit in my face and called me a Jewish sow and asked me again to tell him about NCIS. When I would not, he had me thrown back into that tiny, airless room for a period of time."

Gibbs could see how this telling was affecting her. She looked close to tears and he didn't want to cause her more pain. "That's enough for now, Ziver. Ya don't need to go on. What ya need is some food and more rest. Let me see to that food. I'll be right back," he said, gently sliding out from under Ziva's slight weight. She looked so thin.

Gibbs went into the hall and down to the nurses station. "She's awake and probably have something to eat."

A plump red-headed nurse named Megan looked at the chart governing the patient in 203. "I can get that for you, Agent Gibbs. She's to be on soft foods for a while and in gradually increasing amounts. She's rather malnourished right now. We've been feeding her nutrients through the IV line, but she still has a way to go."

"When can we get her home to Bethesda?" Gibbs asked in his usual brusque manner.

"As long as we can finish our examinations to rule out any more severe trauma and complete the preliminary tests, Dr. Werner says we can release her in a couple of days so you can take her home. She has another battery of x-rays to clarify certain injuries. We had to let the swelling go down in them and then she will need a SAE kit done. Agent Gibbs, you know that she was held in a camp of thirty men and she, their prisoner, and only woman for kilometers. They needed to break her so you know what they did to her. We need to see the extent of her injuries there. We need to send a comprehensive evaluation to Bethesda so they can help her heal further. She's one of the strongest people ever brought in here, Agent Gibbs. She will survive," Megan said, giving Gibbs extra hope that his broken loved one wasn't as broken as he had feared. It would take time, he knew.

"Thank you, Megan. What's on the menu for today so she can start regaining her strength?" he asked, digesting what she had just told him. She had just alluded to...he did not want to let his mind dwell at that violation, but he knew, his gut knew that it happened.

"Well, we're trying some small amount of milky, loose oatmeal today and some toast and jam with tea and water," Megan said.

"Make that oatmeal sweet and not so loose and the tea almost Turkish or it won't get past Ziva sense of smell. If you don't get past that, she won't touch it. If she tosses it up, at least something good got into her," Gibbs said, knowingly.

"The Doctor's orders are-"

"Ziva had the flu at it's worst last year. She was out of work for almost two whole weeks. The only things that would stay put were milky, sweet, thick oatmeal, Turkish tea and McDonald's french fries. She lived on that for a week and a half," Gibbs said, cutting her off. "Where's the nearest McDonald's?"


	4. Chapter 4

_**Interlude**_

_**chapter 4**_

_**a/n: Thank you for the encouraging reviews. It's good to know that I'm not making a mess of our beloved characters. As to the reviews, I do appreciate them, even if I don't reply personally. I try to when I can. This next chapter may be hard to bear because the medical unit must do an examination so very personal to Ziva. I'd gloss over it, but we all do understand that in order to break someone as fierce and strong as Ziva, to make her "ready to die", that something so personally violating must have happened. In our cannon, she survived it quite well. But that was not just after...**_

_**Please pardon the fact that this is a reload of the chapter. Somehow it didn't load right and this is the full chapter.**_

_**The hard Parts Begin**_

Gibbs had been called away with critical information. Tony promised to be there for her as soon as he could break away from the investigation. There was a ton of evidence taken from Saleem Ulman's camp. Nearly three quarters of it was shared between NCIS, FBI, CIA and Homeland Security. Gibbs still claimed the lion's share because it was his "agent" that got captured. He could give a shit about the other agencies. His Ziva was hurting; but duty reared it's ugly head just when he wanted to protect her the most. She was one tough cookie but he knew where the cracks were.

Megan came back into the room a couple of hours after breakfast. "Ziva, we need certain tests that will be uncomfortable. The Doctors have seen things that need a better look so that you have the best information after your ordeal. We really need you to co-operate and I can't sedate you during the procedure."

Ziva was puzzled. Her small, but satisfying breakfast of sweet, milky oatmeal and buttered toast and coffee, weighing heavily on her. She needed more sleep. "Why can I not sleep through the procedure?"

Megan took a deep breath before replying. "Because, Ziva, we need to know if what we do hurts or not. It's important to the final diagnosis that we'll send to Bethesda before we transfer you. It's important to know what hurts and what doesn't. We've been read in and know that you have been through something no human being should ever have to live through so, please trust me when I say that we want to heal you and not hurt you, and, in this circumstance, we need you to tell us what hurts and what doesn't so we can figure out how to heal that part of you. Is this too much to take in?"

Ziva shook her head to clear it after all the English language poured in and she had to suddenly translate it into Hebrew and back again. "In order to heal me you may need to hurt me."

Megan nodded. "I'm sorry, Ziva. We wanted to do this yesterday, but your overall condition was more pressing. But this has to be done now before any evidence degrades further."

"Evidence?"

Megan looked down and then straight into her patient's eyes. "We need to take an SAE kit and examine you for any evidence. It's a purely medical examination. We need to do this now. I don't want to be rough, but time is running out."

Megan helped a very unwilling Ziva into a wheelchair. She wanted to protest, she really did, but she knew Megan was right. She did not want more violation to happen to her, but this was purely medical to help her and not for someone ease's pleasure and to cause her pain. She was still frightened, nonetheless.

Megan wheeled her into a small room with an examination table in the middle. There were people in surgical masks that she didn't know. Her anxiety level rose. Megan placed a gentle hand on Ziva's shoulder. "Remember, this is just an examination to for us and Bethesda to learn how we need to help you to heal. We're not trying to hurt you, I promise. This whole staff is female." When Ziva continued to tremble so much, despite the blankets left on her to counteract the constant chill she felt, Megan said, "Would you like Agent Gibbs or someone to be here?"

Ziva shook her head, knowing what was about to happen. As her feet were placed in the stirrups, she said, "They are men and do not know this."

"I can be here," Megan said and took Ziva's hand in her own.

"Okay, Ziva, I'm Doctor Elise Morgan and I promise to be as painless as I can be. I'll be as quick as possible and try to cause you as little pain as I can. It's normal if this hurts you after what you've been through. Please don't be afraid."

Ziva's hand tightened in Megan's. "Please just do it. You will find about thirty DNA that does not belong to me." Her voice broke, "Just do it. I cannot be violated more."

The examination went on and Ziva couldn't help but shake in pain and fear. She did her best to be still for Dr. Morgan, but it hurt. It hurt so badly that she wanted to lash out and let someone else feel the pain, yet, save for small gasps and cries of pain, she remained silent. She answered questions asked, but that was all. By the time everything was done, Megan thought her hand just might be broken. She had held hands with this confusingly strong woman that had been through too much.

"Ziva, it does you no good to hold this is in. You need to tell me where it hurts so I can help you," Doctor Morgan said.

"Get everything out of me. It all hurts. It is like being on fire. Get your evidence and go," a few tears slipped from Ziva's eyes and she scrubbed them away.

Megan hugged her patient. "Just a bit more evidence gathering," and Ziva cried out in pain as they pushed in an endoscope to document any violence done to her and there was a significant amount. No wonder it hurt so badly. There was massive raw new scars that made Dr. Morgan wince in sympathy. This vibrant young woman would have a difficult reproductive future, and that didn't just mean babies. Every month could hurt from mild to debilitating when she would have to return to her cycle once her weight returned to normal to even monitor it.

The doctor slipped the endoscope out and removed the speculum. She stood by Ziva's head and stroked her hair. "Okay Ziva, we're done here. I'm sorry that this hurt you so much, but you've been so brave. When I get the results back in a couple of hours, I'll tell you. You are a strong and brave woman to withstand what you did. You never did anything wrong and remember your strength. You did nothing wrong." Doctor Morgan said as she left and Ziva was put in the wheelchair and brought back to her room, where a surprise was waiting.

Tony and Tim stood in her room surrounded by packages for Ziva to open.

Considering how private and personal an examination she just went through, she just wanted to be left alone. Apparently, no one else thought so. Megan helped her into bed, ignoring the men.

"Now you might find some discomfort to moderate cramping. Don't choose to suffer through it. You're going to need changes and a spot of blood on the sheets tells us you aren't being honest. Let us take care of you. It's our job. You have two people that love you here. Be honest with them, too," Megan said.

Ziva's face began to crumple. "How can I not hurt them with what happened to me?"

Megan hugged her. " Guys, can you step out for a minute?" She waited for Tony and Tim to step away. "You can't because it'll be in the final report. You've been on a mission that ended up the way you were. They came to get you. Gibbs is a Marine through and through. Marines leave no one behind. You've been in NCIS and Mossad and you know that that is just a part of the debriefing. Marines don't leave anyone behind. DiNozzo has been here all the time, yet he respected your space and didn't want to hurt you more. He needed some medical attention just like you and McGee and they are fine. They're worried about you. They have gifts for you."

For the first time, she crumpled completely into a stranger's embrace and wept. "Not now. I cannot."

"Yes you can and begin to trust your team again. They're so scared for you and love you so much. I can see it in their eyes," Megan said." Be yourself, Officer David, and let them in to help.

Ziva nodded, even though she hadn't been done crying.

Tim approached her first, seriously disturbed by her tears. He decided to treat her no different from any day at the office. "Hey Ziva. Shalom."

"Thank you. Shalom back. I cannot thank you enough for believing I was alive and coming to get me..." she broke off because tears threatened to overwhelm her.

"Ziva, if what happened to you happened to me, wouldn't you have done the same, but in your Mossad ninja skills? I'm sorry if that hurts you.." McGee said softly. He hated seeing his sometimes partner and friend in so much pain, physical and mental. "I don't want to hurt you but I was so scared for you. I think Tony was beyond terrified. He came up with the plan to get you out."

"He did?"

"Yeah. I worked on all the background info, chasing your location down but Tony was the point man. He pitched it to Gibbs and Gibbs pitched to to the Director and they worked out the fine points and here we are, all safe and sound again," Tim said, desperately wanting to hug his friend that appeared to be hurting. "Is it a green light if I give you a hug?

Ziva smiled a smile more full of pain that joy, yet nodded. "Yes, please."

McGee was gentle as he hugged Ziva. Her fierceness in holding onto him and the small sniffles and gasps so her desperately trying not to cry in front of him told him a writer's treasure box about what happened to her. He swore to himself that he would never use what he was sensing coming off of her. It was too personal and too painful. He could never do that to her, even in his next novel. Officer Lisa would not go through what his friend, Ziva, had. Never. He couldn't write it because he couldn't stand the look in Ziva's eyes. He wanted to be there for her, but knew that she had been through things that he knew he couldn't handle.

"McGee-"

"I brought Jenga and Scrabble," McGee said in a hurry. "That is unless you want to take on the Chess Champion of MIT."

"McGee-"

"Or would you rather take a nap?

She laughed softly, mindful of not hurting her broken ribs."I am tired and cold, but I would not mind a game of Jenga. We play as always, cutthroat, yes? Lunch for a week?" Ziva said, feeling better. McGee always was like a security blanket for her. Independent, an author of two books. She knew he didn't mind her teasing him that his Officer Lisa was based on her. Secretly, she felt honored that Tim wanted to base a character after her. He had an odd presence for making her feel safe and comfortable. He was like the little brother she never had and she could tease and play with him like no other. She could threaten him with her Mossad skills, but he'd only back off until he had something she could use. Timothy McGee was a brave man at heart. He just needed to find that within himself.

McGee set up the Jenga game on her hospital tray.

"Lunch for a week, McGee?" Ziva asked, a little of her former playfulness dancing in her eyes.

"A week of burgers and cheese steaks are on you, Ziva," Tim countered. She looked so much more like her old self.

"Eat my dust."


	5. Chapter 5

_**Interlude**_

_**Chapter 5**_

_**A/N: You asked for it and now you have it. A Tiva chapter, though I kept in mind McGee and Tony's conversation about whether they had heard from Ziva after they all got back from Somalia. Tony had tried to talk to her on the plane, but it went nowhere. Maybe this is why.**_

_**And, for everyone that has been reviewing...thank you so much. It's telling me that I'm, so far, not screwing up the characters and giving you something that is worth the time you take to read it. Thanks for the boost.**_

_**Foop!**_

Ziva curled in on herself and rang for the nurse. The pain was unreal. She thought that it could only be moderate at worst. This was like having a knife driven in and sliced around. She took a moment to glance beneath the blankets and almost threw up. She had a small blood pool. She had only slept for 45 minutes after playing a few rounds of Jenga with McGee. How could this happen?

Megan ran in. "Ziva, what's wrong?"

Ziva threw the blankets back. "This."

"Oh my gosh. How much pain are you in?"

"I can barely breathe," Ziva managed.

"Okay. Relax and we'll take care of this. Take it easy," Megan said, calling out orders so fast that Ziva's English broke down. Her mind returned to her native language and she became very frightened. Her Mossad training kicked in and she remained still and allowed the doctors to do as they needed, all the while, inside, she was a terrified young woman. She did not cry out when they took her out of her room and into an operating room to cauterize the bleeders. She did not cry out as each laser strike seared into her most private place. Silent tears slipped from her eyes, but she made no sound.

She was gently placed back in her bed after all was done. It was clean and white with no red and warm, soft blankets were wrapped around her again. She was still in a significant amount of pain, but less than before. She hurt in a way she never imagined she could and cursed Saleem and his men and her father, too, for doing this to her. She laid back, trying to sleep.

"Hey, Ziva, movie time!" Tony announced, coming into her room, brandishing copies of her favorite films. He stopped in his tracks and shoved the DVDs on her bedside table. She was curled into a ball and was clearly in pain. He reached out a hand and gently touched her shoulder. "Ziva?"

She shrank away from his touch. "No."

"Ziva, I didn't mean anything. I didn't mean to scare you. Talk to me?" Tony offered.

Her voice was a whisper. "Please just go away."

"No." Tony said clearly. "I'm your partner and we have each others lives in our hands. You need me right now. No jokes, no playing around. You've been through too much. Talk to me, or not, but let me be here for you."

She desperately wanted to lean on him, annoying as he could be. He had lead the team into the desert to find her. He believed she was still alive. He was her partner. More, he was her friend. She wanted to tell him, but she feared it might hurt him in ways he was not prepared for. "Tony, I have been through two very painful and personal procedures and I am in indescribable pain. I do not want you to see me like this."

"You're embarrassed."

"No. I want to protect you," she whispered, voice full of the pain she felt.

"I don't need protecting, Ziva David," Tony said, like Gibbs only a day ago, sliding onto the hospital bed and gathering her in his arms. "Don't let yourself be embarrassed. I get it, even if I don't get the specifics. You're in pain and it would be good to have some comfort."

Ziva tried to speak, but a flash of agony ran through her and she cried out, legs curling into her abdomen. Tears flowed down her cheeks.

Tony was terrified for her. He'd seen her hurt before, both physically and mentally/emotionally, but nothing as raw as this. He wasn't sure he could handle it. "Tell me how to help you." He gently tried to wipe the tears away.

"You cannot. No one can. Please go."

Tony, terrified, rang the Nurses Station. When Megan ran in, he said, "She's in pain."

Megan lifted the sheets and saw no blood, yet Ziva appeared to be in excruciating pain. "What is it, Ziva? Talk to me."

Ziva fought to hold control on her English. "It is like a knife, here. It is twisting, twisting. It will not stop. Help me."

"I'll get something to help you. I'll be back in a second," Megan said as she rushed out of the room. She found what she need to help this poor traumatized woman to find healing and comfort. She quickly injected the fluid into the IV line. "It'll be a minute or so," she said, stoking her patient's hair. "This handsome man is scared for you. I think he wants to offer you some comfort."

"No. Send him away. I do not want him to see me like this."

"He already has," Tony said, softly, his tone serious. "Ziva, let me do this for you." He slipped into the bed and again, gathered her to his chest and held her as she struggled against him. "No, I'm not going away. We're partners and I won't leave you behind. I never will."

As the pain-killers took effect her protests became weaker and she eventually fell asleep in DiNozzo's arms. He settled in for a long day in a hospital bed holding his partner as she slept. He understood the reasons she had for fighting against him and vowed to change that minor distrust. He also understood the two horribly painful procedures she had just undergone in less than four hours and what they might mean to her. They had been excruciatingly painful and terrifying for her. He was her partner and he would stand by her, no matter what. No matter what.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Interlude**_

_**Chapter 6**_

_**A/N: After two heavy chapters, I thought to add in one that's lighter, more gentle...and, yes, this is a Tiva chapter.**_

Tony combed his fingers through Ziva's curls and kept humming to her, hoping to help ease her somewhat. He couldn't believe how broken she had become in just a few short months. They were long for him, how much more like an eternity had they been for her? Did she have any hope in her heart that someone would come get her? He winced at the memory of the first look into her eyes (was it only two days ago?) when that bag came off her head. She looked beaten and broken, her gaze hollow and so painfully anguished that he didn't have vocabulary enough to ever describe it. Lost.

He gently cradled her head to his chest, thumb softly stroking her cheek while his other hand continued to comb through her soft hair. He laid his cheek on the top of her head. "We'll get you through this, Ziva. I swear we will."

She whimpered softly, perhaps a bad dream beginning and Tony would have none of it. "No, no. No more pain. No more fear my little ninja warrior. Did you know that my mom used to sing to me when I had a bad dream? She sang this old song. Ducky probably knows it because I think it's Welsh, even if he's Scottish, but she sang it in English-" He stopped babbling when the whimper grew louder and she began to move. He held her in closer, dropped a soft kiss to the top of her head and began to sing softly, his voice steady and sure,

" _Hush my child, let peace attend the thee all through the night,_

_Guardian angels God will send thee, all through the night,_

_Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,_

_Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,_

_I, my loving vigil keeping,_

_All through the night."_

He kept humming the tune, words forgotten until she stilled and then her left arm suddenly reached out across him, hugging him, holding him and she sighed softly and relaxed against him.

Tony held her more securely, gentle and mindful of her injuries found and ones yet to be found. He had never once thought of Ziva David as fragile; powerful, intimidating and sometimes downright frightening in a sexy James Bond Girl spy kind of way, but never fragile. She felt so fragile in his arms at that very moment. So tiny, so breakable. Tony knew that she had lost a lot of weight while held prisoner, but it never really dawned on him how much until he and McGee picked her up to get her out of the camp. His arms tightened around her just a bit more, wanting to protect her and hold her close. Not knowing what to do, he kept singing softly to her.

Ziva sighed, hearing the gentle male voice singing a lullaby to her as she swam up out of slumber. It took a moment to recognize the voice and she was surprised by it. She knew he could sing, but not so softly, so tenderly. He usually was goofing around when he sang, especially in the mens' room. She didn't want him to stop because it soothed her so, but she had to say something. "You have a lovely voice, Tony. Why do you not sing like this more often?"

Tony stopped immediately. "Did I wake you?"

Ziva didn't move. "No. You did not answer my question. Why do you not sing like this more? You have a good voice. I would not mind hearing you sing like this more. You do not need to be so goofy when you sing."

Tony was taken aback with the unadulterated praise from a woman that crooned her way like a professional through an undercover op in Morocco as a cabaret singer. He had managed to upload a personal video on YouTube a while back that some patron had recorded and was flabbergasted at her voice. Sexy, honey sweet and sultry and so mesmerizing. One evening he shared it with McGee and watched as Probie's jaw dropped. It certainly didn't hurt that Ziva was stunningly made up and dressed in that royal blue number that made Tony do some fantasizing about her and that dress and that voice. "Th-hanks, Ziva. How are you feeling? Is the pain any better?"

Ziva was still for a few moments. "I still...ache, but it is better. You did not answer my question."

"Because your voice is so much better than mine," Tony blurted without thinking.

Ziva lifted her head off of his chest and shook it. "No. I am not the songbird in my family. I just do as best I can. Tali was the one who could sing like no other. I am just a poor shadow of her."

"Tali is your sister?"

"Was. She was killed by a terrorist attack a long time ago. I do not want to talk about it," Ziva said quickly. "Tony, you really do have a lovely voice. Will you sing for me again sometime?"

"Sometime," he said, searching for some comfortable ground. His eyes fell on the DVDs. "Hey, I brought movies."

Ziva took it at face value. "Yeah, which ones?"

"The Indiana Jones ones," he said, proudly. When her face fell because of memories that could be easily triggered as Indy got beaten and sometimes tortured in those films, he said, "I also brought the Tom Clancy ones. Let's start with The Hunt for Red October."

"That sounds good." Her stomach grumbled. "I think I need to send a meal request to the nurses' station. I am rather hungry."

Tony beamed. Whether he knew it or not, he was the one to help her turn the corner and feel better after the worst experience of her life, after the most terrifying experience of her life and he held her through the pain and tears and messiness and trauma. He did his level best to make her feel better and it was working. Partners were devoted to each other, but this was something different. What was this? What was it it that they felt for each other?

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"What the hell is this!?," Ziva said in a very panicked manner as she shoved the sad, sorry, tasteless, limp pasta and the rest of what they called spaghetti around the plate. " I cannot eat it. It's disgusting. I will vomit."

"Zi, you have to eat something. They're going to think you're anorexic or something. You have to eat-"

"There are maggots! I know they're there! I cannot...I cannot. Please do not make me! I am looking for maggots! He made me eat maggots! If they want me to gain weight then they will need to give me something I can est," Ziva shot back, extremely emotional. It was bringing back too much. "This is too much like...It is...I cannot and will not eat this...this...I cannot...I cannot," she burst into new, near hysterical tears.

Shaken, Tony immediately gathered her in his arms as she wept, she, clinging to him like a lifeline. Eventually she calmed. "It's okay. I'll go out and get something for you. Take it easy." He rang the nurses' station. When Megan entered, he kissed Ziva on top of her head and motioned Megan to speak with him out of the room.

"Listen, I know you guys are trying, but the food choices aren't helping her right now. That stuff was so tasteless and bland to the point of she didn't know what she was given to to eat, that it gave her a flashback to the camp. She was digging through it looking for maggots. That is epically not good. She's been through hell. What was the thinking of giving her stuff that would throw her back into an airless cramped prison with disease riddled food to eat? Gibbs warned you about her sense of smell and getting things past her sense of taste. You gotta do better or you're going to have to allow outside foods in or she's not going to gain weight enough to send her home to Bethesda," Tony said gently, yet he was extremely angry and fighting to reel it in.

"Agent DiNozzo-"

"No, she won't eat. You can't make her and she will hold to that unless she can be seduced by food that both smells and tastes good to her. It needs to trigger a response. She won't eat, otherwise. She won't be force fed. You're up against Mossad training. She has been trained to resist at all costs and don't think she won't do that here. She's the best of the best. She can outlast you. She beat a terrorist prison camp in Somalia. She is a highly disciplined and trained Mossad assassin. You think she can't break you?" Tony said with more than a hint of pride for his partner. "It doesn't matter what you see today. This is the person you're dealing with. She has discipline that would scare Catholic school nuns to death." Tony said, seriously. "I'd suggest you give in. Ziva won't."

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"McDelivery Boy, I need you to go to the nearest McDonalds and get Ziva the usual," Tony said into his cell.

McGee was genuinely puzzled. "But I thought she was on a specialized diet."

"Yeah, but that specialized diet sent her right back to the camp. She was...it was...really bad. Just get her the food, Probie," Tony said, pacing the hallway. "She just...get the food, Tim."

McGee was not lost on Tony using his first name. It must have been really bad. "Won't she-"

"Probably, but at least she'll eat."

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Tony re-entered Ziva's room. She was laying on her side, eyes distant and almost empty. He rattled the white bag with the red and yellow logo on it, breaking her out of her thoughts. "Look who delivers."

Ziva looked over at him and then the aroma hit her. Her mouth began to water and her stomach growled. "Is that what I think it is?"

Tony grinned at her. "You bet; the usual. Big Mac, large fries and an apple pie. Eat it slowly so you don't hurt yourself too much. Small bites and sips of water in between. You can't eat it all right now. I'll finish what you can't. Ziva, I just want you to get better."

"Give me the bag, DiNozzo," Ziva said, taking the bag out of his hands. Her hand immediately closed on the container of fries and she grabbed a couple and bit down on their salty starchiness. She chewed carefully and swallowed. It was so good. She ate several more before she turned her attention to the sandwich. Tony was right and she couldn't eat much, but she felt so much better after what little she did eat. There was some minor nausea, but, since she really mostly ate the fries, she didn't lose anything. If anything, she was drowsy again and drifted off watching Tony finish her burger.

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"Oh God!" Ziva cried as she shot upright, the agony in her midsection mostly in the background. She didn't need that complication, but that was not the most pressing need at the moment.

Tony jerked awake. "What?"

Ziva gagged, trying to hold it in. She motioned helplessly. "Now!"

Tony grabbed the bedpan and held it beneath her as she emptied most of her stomach into it. It was brief and violent and left her shaking and hurting. "You done?" Tony asked as he hit the call button for the nurses' station.

She nodded, laying back against the pillows, holding her ribs with her good hand. "I am better, thank you, Tony."

Guilt ate at him. "This was my fault. I had McGee go and get things too heavy for you to eat and it made you throw up. I'm so sorry, Ziva."

She shook her head. "No. You did well. I enjoyed it all. You made me feel...normal. That is something that I cannot push aside right now. I do not care if I-" Ziva broke off as Megan came in.

"What in the hell were you thinking by giving her that junk? She just threw it all up! She's supposed to be on-"

"Megan! Tony did right. I do not care that I tossed some of it up," Ziva defended. "It was better than what I had and it...it...helped," Ziva said, her eyes filling. "Do not blame him. It is what I needed, so stop; just stop."

Tony handed off the bed pan just as Ziva's face crumpled. He gathered her in his arms. "It's okay, Z, I gotcha."

She just nodded and buried her face in his shoulder and desperately tried to not break down in front of Tony. She lost the fight. She wept into his chest.

"I hate this! I hate it! I want to be in he bull pen waiting for an case." Ziva wept into Tony's chest. "I do not want to be sick and hurt. I want to be normal. I NEED to be normal."

Tony's heart broke and he held back tears. She was in so much pain. "I know, Ziva, but you gotta stay here to help you get well. After this, we're going to Bethesda and you know how good they are. You know they might keep you overnight and then...then you get to stay with one of us...because..."

"Because my beautiful new apartment turned into a crime scene courtesy of Michael and Mossad trying to clear up the 'loose ends'. I have no idea where I am to live after this." She let the tears fall. " I no longer blame you, Tony. I was angry and lashing out. I do not know what went on. I was out of the circle."

"Loop."

"Yes, I was out of the loop."

Tony cuddled her close, doing his best to comfort her. "Hey, you can stay by me as long as you need. It's a small place, but cozy for two. You need to do something and I just don't do for one; let me cook for you. While you heal, you can prep for me. It's better than this crap they've been trying to feed you, I promise. You can sleep in my new bed. Ziva, you'll be safe with me."

Ziva considered for long moments. "I know I will be safe with you. Will you be safe with me? Bodnar's people will be coming after you. Maybe-"

"You're coming home with me as soon as Bethesda releases you. Gibbs gave me protection detail for you in case Bodnar decides to take a pot shot," Tony said. " If my place isn't secure then we'll be staying at Gibbs' place instead of mine that might be compromised, he's taking the graveyard shift with you."

"No, he cannot! He needs to be sharp and so do you! Go to sleep!" Ziva commanded, frantic in her emotions. She was close to panic as Gibbs entered. He took it in and took over from Di Nozzo.

Gibbs took her in his arms and cuddled her trembling form close as he spoke. "You know I had a first wife and daughter. My wife was named Shannon, and our daughter was named Kelly. It was Paradise, as far as I was concerned. Shannon was beautiful and wonderful and gave me my beautiful baby girl. I wanted a girl, Ziva. I wanted to go to ballet recitals and Spring Concerts when she sang or played the flute or piano or anything else. Then,I was a Marine in Desert Storm. I missed these things." Ziva opened her mouth to say something, but Gibbs waved her off. This was his story. "Then she and Shannon were killed and my soul ripped open. I had death in my heart and it lead me down a very dark path. It killed part of my soul. Don't let this kill your soul, too. If anyone here gets this, I do. I have no Shannon anymore, but she would have welcomed you as a daughter of my heart. She would have loved you. I love you, Ziva. You are the strong, confident woman that I wanted Kelly to grow up to be. She would have loved you, too."

Ziva clung to him and wept harder. "I am not strong or confident. You should not be proud of me."

" You are and I am. You are loved and treasured and not just by me."

Gibbs shifted Ziva's anguished form from himself to Tony, whom held her securely and tenderly.

"Don't screw this up, DiNozzo. You see how raw and defenseless she really is. Don't screw this up." Gibbs said.

"I won't, Boss."

Tony held her as she wept her soul out. Eventually she stilled.

"Tony, after everything I said and did, why did you come after me?"

DiNozzo was quiet for a minute. He decided to tell the absolute truth. "We thought that asshole killed you. You're one of our own. We went in to take him out of the planet's misery. Revenge, maybe justice, I don't know the name Gibbs sold Vance on. And then we found you alive. Alive, Ziva. Do you have any idea the pure joy that ran through me and McGee at that? You know Gibbs gives nothing away. Do you know the look in his eyes when we carried you out and he saw you were still alive? I think he might have had his eyes mist up a little. We all were...we all...we had you back. You, Ziva. You are back with us and safe and sound and I know that I can't wait to get you back home again. Abby and Ducky went on ahead to take your records to Bethesda. You'll only be a day or so there and then you'll come home to Gibbs' place. Abby promised to stockpile things to eat and drink. Ziva, like it or not, your home is with us."

"Why did YOU?"

"I told you; because I can't live without you."


	7. Chapter 7

_**Interlude**_

_**Chapter 7**_

Gibbs gave one of his patent death stares at Megan as she slid slippers onto Ziva's bare feet. "She was doubled over in pain yesterday so bad she had to be sedated and today you want her to walk?"

Megan wouldn't be intimidated by his death ray. "Doctor's orders. We're only going to the chair not ten feet away, have a sit down for fifteen minutes and then right back in bed. Ziva isn't even going to leave this room." She turned her attention to her patient. "Are you ready, Ziva?"

Ziva could feel the concern and worry radiating off of Gibbs and she had to admit that she had doubts about this, herself, but she nodded."If it will help me go home, then I am ready."

Megan slipped her arm around Ziva's waist and helped her to stand."How long has it been since you've walked on your own for any length of time?"

Ziva wavered, her legs very weak. "I do not know. I had no way to keep track of time. Why does this hurt?"

"Did you suffer any excessive trauma to your legs, particularly your knees and hips?" Megan asked as they slowly inched toward the chair.

"Yes." She wavered again and Gibbs reached out to steady her.

He hated to see her hurt like this. "Can we stop now? She's in pain and I think she had far too much of that lately."

"Ziva, your joints hurt from disuse that your captor intended."

"Then work me no matter how much it hurts. I want to go home," Ziva replied with conviction, despite the undeniable agony every step caused her. She was getting tired of being the victim in all of this.

"Ziver, don't torture yourself," Gibbs said softly, keeping a steadying hand on her elbow.

"I am not torturing myself, Gibbs. I want to go home and I cannot get there if I do not work hard," Ziva said through grit teeth. She eased herself into the chair with a sigh. "Saleem beat me, starved me, made me beg for even the tiniest sip of water. You do not wish to know what all he and his men did to me. If I do not work hard and get it all back, then he has won. He has broken me."

Gibbs smiled a little, recognizing the Ziva he knows coming back; the fighter. "All right." Gibbs phone rang. "Yeah...slow down DiNozzo...He's here?...Not gonna happen. I'll be right down. Have the MP's hold him if they have to."

Ziva's curiosity was piqued. "Hold who, Gibbs?" she asked, looking up at him.

He thought for a moment and then squat down next to the chair, taking her hand. "Your father is here and he wants to see you."

"Eli is here?" Ziva asked, flabbergasted that he would have the nerve. "He can go back to Tel Aviv. Make him go away."

Gibbs stood and placed a kiss to her cheek. "That's what I thought."

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"Agent Gibbs, what is the meaning of this?" Mossad Director Eli David exploded. "I demand to see Ziva."

Gibbs was the picture of calm at the moment. "I'm afraid that's not gonna happen, Director David."

Eli pounded the table with his fist. "She is my daughter and I demand to see her!"

"Well, she's not too keen on seeing you," Gibbs said, beginning to let his anger show.

Eli shook his head. "She is sick and hurt and needs her father. When she is able to travel, I will take her home to Israel."

"She's coming back to the States with us."

"You left her in Israel. You didn't want her anymore. You left her standing on the tarmac in a state of shock because she trusted you and you betrayed her," Eli pointed out.

That was it; Gibbs anger soared. "You hypocritical son of a bitch! I may have left her in Israel, but I did not send her on a suicide mission and then leave her to die in the desert! No recovery mission. You didn't even care whether she lived or died. You just left her. She spent almost four agonizing months in that camp and I know you know what those bastards did to her. Ziva doesn't want to see you. She said for you to go home to Tel Aviv." Gibbs turned to the MP standing at the door of the examining room. "Under no circumstances is this man allowed access to Ziva David's room, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

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Ziva was already back in bed by the time Gibbs returned to her room. She was curled on her side with her eyes closed. They snapped open the second she heard the door. Fear mixed with anger warred in the dark orbs. She relaxed when she saw that it was Gibbs. "Where is he?" she whispered, almost afraid to speak normally because he may be nearby.

Gibbs hated that look of fear in her eyes. It didn't belong there. "When I left, he was standin' with his jaw hangin' open in a room with a MP. They have orders to let him nowhere near you."

She closed her eyes in relief, fighting yet more tears. Her chin trembled. "Thank you."

His touch, stroking her hair, were words enough. She was safe.

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She was getting progressively colder, sitting on the floor and that's where McGee found her when he stopped by to visit. "Hi, Tim."

"Jesus, Ziva! Did you fall out of the bed?" McGee squeaked as he dropped the fast food bag he was carrying and shot to her side and knelt down by her.

"I fell, yes, but not out of the bed. I was trying to walk to the chair on my own. They are letting me get out of bed now. I lost my balance and fell...can you give me a hand?" she explained rather hurriedly.

McGee picked her up in his arms and set her on the chair. "Ziva, are you alright?"

She winced a little, but beamed more. She had almost made it all the way to the chair by herself. "I think my bruises have bruises, but I am fine, McGee."

"You look awfully proud of yourself for someone that I just had to pick up off the floor," McGee gently scolded.

"I am. I could not walk unassisted this morning," she said proudly. "I almost made it to the chair on my own."

"You couldn't? Well, good for you, Ziva. Just, promise me that you'll have someone here to pick you up if you fall next time. We just got you back in once piece. I don't want you breaking anything else. Promise me," McGee said with stern concern.

Ziva took in his brotherly concern and the twinkle of pride in his eyes and nodded. "I promise, McGee." She sniffed appreciatively. "Gibbs said that you were bringing dinner."

McGee retrieved the previously dropped bag and held it open for her to see the contents. "Your doctors have given us permission to bring in outside food, so, I brought you the usual."

"Fantastic! I am starving. Relearning how to walk burns calories. And, I do not think I will throw anything up today."

Tim smiled at her. "Do you want to get back in bed first?"

She shook her head. "No, I'd like to eat right here. Call it a...measure of progress, yes?"

McGee's smile widened. She was coming back bit by bit. She was coming back to them all. "Yes."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Interlude**_

_**Chapter 8**_

_**A/N: Beginning of the chapter is a tough read, but it may explain why Ziva would not talk to Tony on the plane home. I originally intended to have the story end with them all entering NCIS in triumph with the applause, but that's honestly not where the story ends. So, there will be more. I also realise there is some confusion over the renaming and rewriting of chapters. My fault for being too eager to tell a story and not look at the canon. This is cool, but I will be renaming and reloading chapters. Sorry. Guilty as charged with such a sensitive and emotional subject. Breaking Rule one; Sorry.**_

Ziva tossed and turned under her warm blankets, trapped in a nightmare so detailed and deep that she could find no way out of. Her terrified heart beat frantically in her chest, threatening to tear a hole in it to escape the horror to come. She made a strangled cry as the nightmare deepened.

_Saleem smiled that deadly smile at her and she knew no good could come of it. What more was he going to do to her? She'd already been beaten from head to toe with fists, kicking feet, batons, once a brick and more, bones broken in a most methodical manner, starved, dehydrated, lost more blood than she ever imagined she had in herself, cut with knives, stabbed and left to bleed, burned by whatever was lit and handy, and violated by not just him, but each of the men in the camp. Not a single one of them was gentle and she bled and was torn and never wanted anyone there again. She could not imagine anyone being able to touch her again and she to find it comforting. Touch was pain. She had begun to long for the peace of death._

_Saleem turned his back on her. When he turned around she saw that he had a red hot poker, like the one she saw to stir the embers for a fireplace like the one at Ducky's that she saw last Thanksgiving. Ice cold terror clamped itself around her heart as he advanced on her._

"_Hold her down," He said to his men._

_She began to fight against them; to thrash, but she was so weakened that it wasn't really a fight. Saleem came closer and she could tell by the look in his eyes where he was going to use that glowing end._

Ziva screamed at the top of her lungs.

Tony ran the last of the length of the hallway to her room and tried to hold her, to wake her, but she was too deep in her nightmare. She screamed again and it sounded like her soul was being torn in two. Tony shook her to wake her. She was terrifying him.

"Ziva!" he shouted at her, shaking her gently. "Wake up. It's a nightmare. Wake up!"

"No, please, no!" she cried, eyes flying open, yet not really seeing the hospital room around her. She fought against Tony's gentle hands. "No!"

He wouldn't be pushed away. "Ziva, it's Tony. You're having a nightmare. Come back to me."

Ziva only became more panicked, screamed again, and curled herself into a protective ball and wept inconsolably, the nightmare/memory still too fresh in her mind. She did remember that Saleem had been interrupted at the last minute by news of new prisoners, which were McGee and Tony, taken and the heat of that device only ghosting the target area. Whomever the new prisoners were gave her a reprieve, not a rescue. He would be back to continue. She screamed again at Tony's tender touch.

"Wake up!" He finally gave her a hard shake and her eyes suddenly focused on him."Tony?"

"Who else would it be?" He stroked her sweat matted hair in the most gentle of manners. "You were having a nightmare."

She couldn't be comforted and continued to weep, rocking her body in an effort to soothe herself, but to no avail. She shrank away from Tony's gentle touch. "Do not touch me! Go away! Leave me alone!" she shouted.

Tony had seen her weep and held her as she did so and she wasn't frightened by him at all. Now, however, she was in absolute terror of his very presence. He had to try. "Ziva, talk to me."

When he reached out a gentle hand she screamed into her pillow and shrank away from him.

He was in utter shock at the display. Eyes full of sorrow and pain, he backed out of her room. He wiped at a lone tear and dragged a chair over and sat outside her door, listening to her anguished sobs, helpless to do anything for her. He was so confused by everything that he could not bring himself to visit her again, although he longed to.

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Why the hell was she so nervous? She was being released. She was going home. Granted, she had no apartment any longer since Mossad "cleaned up" their mess by blowing her beautiful new place to smithereens. She would be staying with Gibbs while she finished recovering. She shrugged into the only clothing that she still owned, which was the clothing she wore when they left Saleem's camp. The clothing had been washed, but it all hung on her slender frame. Trust men to forget something as simple as getting her something else to wear. She was shaken out of her thoughts by the door opening.

Gibbs took in her appearance and gave her an encouraging smile. She looked nervous as hell. "Let's go home, Ziver," he said, offering her the wheelchair.

"Do I have to go in _that_?" she asked, eying the chair.

He nodded. "Hospital policy. You can walk out once we get you out the doors. Come on."

She stood and carefully walked to the chair and sat, placing her feet on the rests. "Where is Tony?"

"He'll meet us at the plane," Gibbs replied. Tony had told him everything and it shocked the older man as well. She was far more damaged than either man had thought possible and still be sane. She was going to have a very long road ahead of her.

"Oh." Ziva wasn't certain that she could face Tony after what she said and did to him yesterday morning. She felt guilty and ashamed of her behavior. She hoped that no one else knew because she wouldn't be able to take it. How she must have hurt Tony when he was only trying to help.

Gibbs wheeled her out the hospital doors and over to the car. "Go on, get in." He held the chair steady for her and helped her get in the car. She was silent all the way to the air base. Only when she saw that they weren't heading toward the C120 that was sitting on the tarmac, did she say anything. "Where are we going? Isn't that our plane?"

"Nope. SecNav sent the Gulfstream over there. Nobody wants you to be bouncing around in a jump seat. You could re injure yourself," Gibbs told her, watching her reaction out of the corner of his eye. She looked distinctly uncomfortable with the prospect of spending a 10 hour flight in such a much smaller space with Tony.

Ziva shifted uncomfortably. "That was kind of him. I must remember to thank him the next time-" she stopped herself, realizing that she might not have a position at NCIS anymore. It was likely that when they thought she was dead, her liaison position was terminated. Her father...no, _Eli _would have had her declared dead. She likely had no place in Mossad, either. That didn't matter because she had no intention of ever going back. They left her to die. Eli left her to die.

"It's gonna be okay, Ziva," Gibbs said softly, reaching out and holding her hand, giving it a light squeeze. "Let's just work on getting you healed up enough to even think about it."

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"Have ya tried talkin' to her yet, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, a couple of hours into the flight.

Tony looked back at her where she slept on the couch they made up for her. "She won't talk to me, Boss. She won't even look at me. Do you think she's angry at me because I didn't stay with her?"

Gibbs shook his head, looking back at her as well. "No, I think she's maybe embarrassed by her behavior. She did ask where you were at the hospital, though. Talk to her when she wakes up."

"I don't know."

Gibbs smacked him on the back of the head. "She needs you, Tony. Be there for her when she's ready."

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"We're not taking Ziva to Bethesda?" McGee asked as they drove in the opposite direction. He sat in the back with Ziva, her head resting on his shoulder. The flight exhausted her, even though she slept a good deal of the way back to D.C.

Gibbs shook his head. "Nope, Vance asked us to stop by the Navy Yard first. She can handle the visit."

Tony switched the radio on to cover the uncomfortable silence that fell over the car as Gibbs drove. It wasn't uncomfortable for McGee, since Ziva was allowing him to comfort her and it wasn't uncomfortable for Gibbs because she actually talked to him. No, Tony felt uncomfortable because she still wouldn't look at him; still wouldn't speak to him.

Gibbs pulled into his usual parking spot and helped Ziva from the vehicle. He placed a kiss on her forehead. "A lot of people want to see you, you know. I want you to be prepared."

Ziva nodded once. "I understand."

They got on the elevator and Ziva wavered slightly as it began to ascend. Gibbs steadied her. "You okay?"

She nodded. "I am fine."

In an effort to to lighten the mood, Tony said, "Just another day at the office."

The elevator doors opened and they all just stood there for a moment, then Gibbs stepped out, Ziva stepped out almost on top of him, using him as a shield. She suddenly felt so shy, even though she knew that these people that were turning to look at her, at them, were her co-workers and friends. And then Vance began the applause. First one agent, then another, and another stood from where they were working and began a thunderous ovation that was a little frightening and a lot embarrassing. Then Abby, whom had held her that very first day in Germany, whom had returned to the States, rushed to her, touched her bruised face so tenderly and enfolded her in one of her best hugs, very mindful of Ziva's healing body. Ziva was finally home.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Interlude**_

_**Chapter 9**_

_**I apologize even if it is a sign of weakness. Breaking Gibbs' Rule 1. I went so against the canon that I could not continue the story. It actually painted me into a corner and I had to use the painful paint thinner to get all of us out of it. I really needed to return to true cannon. For anyone that knows me from the CSI:Miami fanfic I've written, I've taken certain liberties in between the cracks, but never went AU in respect to the ladies and gentlemen that are actually paid to write the show for a living. I've gone a tad A/U for CSIM, but not here because of a neglect the writers made glaringly obvious. This is never the case for NCIS. The writers set this up in a delicate balance, the true fall-out that has not been fully realized, even in the tenth season. For my story purposes, look for it. It will come. They're sneaky cusses and I have no doubt the emotional things happening with Eli's death will come into play. The writers keep track and are irritatingly patient. I really went off the grid on this one and watching the episodes post Truth or Consequences made me cringe with what I allowed myself to write. There is careful canon written by the show's writers and no matter what fantasy I wanted to write, I can't do it. I erased the other chapters because they just weren't true to the canon story. I have to respect the writers that are doing a fantastic job of keeping continuity and time lines and the integrity of all the characters, their backgrounds and time lines. To step outside while in a canon timeline is just to disrespect those that work so hard to bring us the stories every week. I guess I am a writer with all the good and ill that encompasses. I will study some more, now that I have the dvd's and come up with something more inline with what the pro's wrote and envisioned. I promise that it will be good.**_

Ziva spoke to no one after the ovation at NCIS. It embarrassed her more than anything. She wasn't the triumphant warrior returning from battle She was nothing like that. She was a broken, dispirited victim that just needed to lick her wounds and heal quietly. She left, knowing the woman she was leaving there was brimming with hurt and anger; rage. She was returning, She was small and broken, not nearly angry enough to get a good froth flowing. She just wanted to be left alone. She told Gibbs that she would rather stay at the Navy Lodge instead of imposing any further on any of them any longer after being evaluated at Bethesda. She needed to stand on her own two feet, no matter what physical pain it caused her. She needed to fight for herself.

It was decided that Ducky would take Ziva to Bethesda and speak with her doctors and update her records. He glanced over at his passenger, who was more silent than usual. Her eyes were downcast and she wouldn't look at him. "Ziva, if you want to talk, I'm a good listener, as you well know from all of our talks over tea. Tell me what is weighing so heavily on your shoulders right now," he said, kindly.

She was silent for a while longer. "I am not worth the trouble that everyone went through. It would have been better if they had left me to die. I wanted to die."

At that, Ducky pulled the Morgan over and parked. He turned to her, taking her face in his gentle physician's hands. "You are worth everything they went through to bring you home to us and more. Oh, Ziva, that bastard did such a number on you to have you thinking like this. How he harmed you. Do you know how loved you really are?"

"Why?" It came out a shaky whisper.

Ducky regarded her closely, seeking knowledge from her pained dark eyes, before speaking. What he saw there told him volumes of just what psychological damage had been done. "This is a very long subject for a very short drive. We are not finished with this subject, my dear girl."

Ziva looked down and nodded, chin trembling. She wiped impatiently at her eyes, but said nothing. She dared not. She said nothing the rest of the way and Ducky didn't push her. There would be time enough to speak once she was in her room.

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Thanks to Ducky's thorough preparations, Ziva had already been checked in and was wheeled into her room as soon as they talked to the admissions desk. Abby had been practical and had gone out to buy Ziva a few things so she'd have stuff to wear, shampoo, conditioner, soap, body lotion, brush, comb, toothbrush, toothpaste and more. She even included a little make-up; soft colors like Ziva normally wore. Ducky took that bag out and laid out a soft set of sweats, a t-shirt, socks and underthings and stepped out of her door so she could change and be comfortable. He was just about to check on her when she opened the door.

"I am sorry that I took so long. It still hurts to move in some places...a lot," she admitted. She shifted uncomfortably. She lost her footing and stumbled backwards.

Ducky took her arm. "My dear girl, you're exhausted," he said, helping her back to her bed. He lowered it so she could easily get in. He tucked the blankets around her. "Better?"

She gave him a small smile. "Yes, thank you."

He pulled a chair over and sat at her side. "Are you in any pain?"

"I do not know. I have forgotten what it feels like to not be."

It broke Ducky's heart to hear that. He rose and sat on her bed, placing a loving kiss on the top of her head and gently embraced her. "What you must have endured to not be able to tell the difference."

"Do not feel bad, Ducky. It is what it is," She took a shaky breath. "I keep thinking that this is a dream and that I shall wake up from it and be..._there _again. If this is, I do not want to wake up."

"This is no dream, Ziva. You're home now with the people that treasure you, not for what service you can do us, but for who you are inside," Ducky said soothingly."Remember what I said in the car. You are loved."

"Not when they learn what happened; what was done. How could anyone love that?" Silent tears slipped down her cheeks. "No one could love that. I know. It is too much. Why couldn't they leave me to die?" She pressed her wet face into her palms.

Ducky fought tears of his own, hearing her broken voice. "Because we love you, Ziva. Our hearts broke when we thought you died on the Damocles. We mourned your loss as deeply as any family would. We were so broken. It was hard, almost impossible, especially for Jethro, Timothy and Anthony, to come into work every day and function without you, especially Anthony. Your empty desk ate at all of us. Too many times they came to autopsy to vent, oftentimes to shed tears when it just became overwhelming. Director Vance encouraged them to find a new agent to take your spot. They went through so many that didn't measure up to who you are. You are unique to our family, Ziva. There was no way anyone could have filled that void, even if you had died. We're all damaged in our way. We're all misfits, yet we come together with our flaws because we accept them. You have some extras now. Show them to us and let us embrace them and you. You have nothing to fear. There will be no rejection, my dear girl. They didn't know that you were still alive, but intel said that Saleem had a female prisoner taken around the time the Damocles was scuttled gave us all hope, even if there were no reported survivors. The boys tore off not too long after that. To kill Saleem was a goal because we had traced you to that camp and then there was nothing, and if he did have a female P.O.W., to get her out, even if it was not you. At least it would be a mercy, or rather, more eloquently, a mitzvah in your honor. When it was you, well, I don't have to tell you what that was like, the sheer euphoria that they had found you and were determined to bring you home. Everyone regrets the length of time it took to find you and get you out of that terrible place. We all did it because we love you, Ziva. You are so worthy of the love. You always will be."

She shook her head. "Not with the pain I caused. I cannot believe it."

Again, he took her face in his hands and forced her to look at him. The emotional agony in her deep chocolate orbs made him wince internally. Externally he held them, filled them with loving compassion from his own hazel ones. "You made a mistake. Those that love you forgive. You have been forgiven a thousand times over already."

"No, Ducky, you do not understand, " Ziva wept, "I said and did terrible things before I left. I accused Tony of cold-blooded murder. I refused to trust Gibbs when I should have. I hurt them all beyond reason. I was filled with rage and I carried death in my heart and I took it out on them and hurt them. Do you know of Karma, Ducky? Well, this was my three-fold, I guess. Only, I was not supposed to survive and now I find that they suffered more at my hands...what am I to do to atone? How do I make it right? I will never be able to because I cannot. How...how?"

The guilt that she carried inside of her hit him in a near physical wave. What horrid things had she been thinking that Saleem had turned on her for the last quarter year? Ducky slid even closer on her bed and tenderly embraced her. "Oh, my dear, my dear, you must heal to atone. That is the only thing any of us wish for you. You were angry and lashed out in that anger. We understand."

"Even Tony, whom I accused of murder?"

"Especially Tony," Ducky said, making a mental note to inform DiNozzo that he needed to talk with Ziva and soon so she could continue to emotionally heal. "He was the one that spear-headed the search to either find you or avenge your death and he was the point man on the mission. He refused to give up on you until he heard the words 'No survivors'. Then the intel came in that Saleem Ulman might have an unidentified female captive. He became a man possessed in searching for Saleem Ulman and he went into that dessert determined to kill Ulman or to die trying and free that captive. I think he hoped in his heart of hearts, and his is very great, that the captive was you because knowing that you were dead hurt him to the very center of his being. Ziva, it did not matter what you said and did. Tony understood."

Finally, Ziva fully broke down, crying the tears that she held in for months. "Please do not leave me, Ducky," she wept. All the guilt and rage and hurt washed over her in huge, engulfing waves to crash away, leaving her feeling cleaner, more at peace than she had been in a long time.

"I'll be right here as long as you need me."

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Ziva stayed for a very brief 48 hours at Bethesda. Her injuries cataloged and her mental state noted. Ducky managed to talk her out of Psych Services into his care. She would never speak to a stranger the way she could speak to him. He promised to have daily sessions with her, even if it was just tea and sympathy. In truth, Ducky couldn't bear the thought of her struggling with a stranger, never trusting, never knowing.

The heavy white cast that she sported gave way to a coban wrapping. The mistaken diagnosis of a break corrected with more recent x-rays and very decreased swelling to a hairline fracture that would heal far sooner. Her ribs were still broken and her spirit still low, but she would heal and it was deemed that she did not have to be hospitalized any longer. She still had to regain weight and strength in her limbs, especially her legs, but she was fit to go home as long as she had someone to help her out.

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Ducky pulled Gibbs aside, still at the hospital the morning that Ziva was to be released.

"She's more fragile than you realize, Jethro," he said softly, outside her room. "It's not so much her body, but her spirit that took the real beating. She's going to need a lot of love and reassurance to even get a measure of who she used to be back. I cannot speak on what she and I talked about, but she is going to need all of us and our love to come back as fully as she can." His eyes went soft. "She's so broken, Jethro. That bastard nearly broke her spirit entirely. I'm glad you killed him."

The last sentence shocked Gibbs. He'd never known Ducky to be happy over any death. "Just how bad, Duck?"

"She will, undoubtedly wake up screaming in the night and need someone to hold her and remind her that she is loved. Just hold her and comfort her and remind her that she is loved," Ducky said, solemnly. He hated to bring it up, but it might make Gibbs understand better. "Think about how you felt after Shannon and Kelly were killed; how broken you were. Now amplify it by 10 fold. That's where she is. She doesn't have revenge to focus on because you killed Saleem for her. She's just lost everything, including her father, who sent her into this disaster. She is so angry about that. She hates him right now. She doesn't have Israel as a homeland any longer, her home here was blown up by those she supposedly trusted. She is a woman without a homeland, a physical home and without a biological family. We're all she has in this world. She needs us so badly that she is almost paralyzed by it. Let's not let her down. She needs to be Ziva again."

"Geez, Duck," Gibbs said, running his hand through his short cropped hair. "That's...are you sure she can't...shouldn't she be...?"

"In a mental facility? No. She can come back from this, but it's going to take time. What she needs most is her family here. You, me, Abby, Tim and Tony. She needs gentleness and reassurance, not psych counseling. She needs to feel safe again; she needs a sense of home," Ducky said. He put a hand on Gibbs' shoulder. "Treat her like the daughter she is to you in your heart. Just love her."

Gibbs ducked his head. "I can do that, but she chose to stay at the Navy Lodge instead of by me. I'll see if she'll let me stay for company tonight," he said as Ziva was rolled into the hall, ready to leave. "Ready to blow this pop stand?"

Confusion colored her features. "Blow what?"

"He meant to ask if you were ready to leave," Ducky said, chuckling.

"Oh, then, yes! I want to blow up this pop stand," Ziva said, a genuine smile lighting her face. She may have a long row to hoe, but she was still Ziva and could laugh when thoughts and memories did not weigh crushingly on her.

Gibbs laughed. "Just blow, Ziva, not blow up. Just means you're ready to get out of here."

"Definitely."

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"I don't understand why you want to be here instead of staying with me." Gibbs said, quietly.

"I think I need to do some things on my own."

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked in a very soft voice, wanting, needing to take care of her, this daughter of his heart. She was so broken, so in a world of hurt. Why did she need to be so stubborn?

"You can still settle me in if you'd like, Gibbs," she said in the gentlest voice she'd ever used. She was hurt and confused and frightened, but she didn't want to show that. She needed to be the tough Mossad Officer she has always been, no matter the cost to her soul. Tough, Mossad... The pain needed to be buried. " I am hurting, yes. Is it time for medication?"

He eyed her for a very long moment, taking the luggage that Abby sent over. It was none of Ziva's well worn and well loved things, but they were thoughtful nonetheless, brighter and less military, and then said, "In a few minutes. I guess you can have it right now. What's a couple of minutes?"

Unbeknownst to Gibbs, after that last exchange, Ziva's defenses had finally broken down and she had begun to weep, to mourn what she lost, not just physically, but emotionally. She had no home anywhere on the planet...a true Wandering Jew. She had no family. Eli was dead to her after what he just put her through. The rest of her family lay in their graves in Israel. Mother and sister dead to terrorist attacks and Ari...Ari dead by her own hand at her father's orders, yet to protect the precious man before her. He was so precious to her. The father she no longer had. She was so very quiet at first that he knew nothing and then the trembling and sound became loud and hard enough to hear. Gibbs wrapped his arms around her. 'You're not going to be alone; at least not tonight. Let it out. You'll never be alone again."

"I've said horrible things. I've done horrible things. Terrifying things have been done to me. How can I ever be …..I have no home. Gibbs..." she wept softly. "I have no family. Eli is all but dead to me. I cannot return to Mossad. I cannot return to Israel. Can I return to you? To NCIS? Do I have a life here? Do I have a life? Who am I?"

Gibbs held her, aware of the mental and emotional pain inside this young woman. Coddling her and cuddling her wouldn't help, really, although that's all he wanted to do with her. She was the daughter that he longed for after Kelly was murdered. How she and Kelly could have been friends... Ziva was older by several years, but still young enough to enjoy Kelly's company, should Kelly's life had not been cut short at the age of eight. Kelly's ghost and Ziva had similarities. They both should have had a real childhood. They could have been friends. When Ziva's weeping became a torrent, he cuddled her closer, knowing that he now was her sole father figure in her life and she needed her dad right then. She needed him to chase the monsters away, to make the fear and pain go away. To make Saleem and his men go away. She needed to feel safe again. He kissed the top of her head. He began to rock her in his arms like a baby. "I shouldn't have left you on the tarmac. I'm sorry. This should have never happened to you. You are Ziva David. You are a wonderfully intelligent and extremely capable young woman that has come into our lives. Let's let the job work itself out. You are our Ziva. You are part of our family here. You belong." His arms tightened around her as she cried harder. He kissed the top of her head. "You belong to us."


	10. Chapter 10

_**Interlude**_

_**Chapter 10**_

Her talk with Gibbs had been excruciatingly difficult for her to do. He made it easy on her and just listened and gave her the space and time to think and speak her heart and mind. She had spent time in hobby shops, listening and learning about woodworking and then found the gift she wished to give him. It was something she knew that he had broken a while back, just before he finished his last boat. She had hoped he hadn't gotten himself another one in the meantime. Ziva half expected Gibbs to reject the gift, but he didn't. A soft smile ghosted his lips as he looked it over. She tried to deflect her discomfort with humor, but he let it go, saying that it was a really nice chisel. She stumbled awkwardly through her soliloquy and Gibbs just listened. She had gone there to seek his blessing to come back to NCIS. If he didn't give it, she would not be able to bear it. He had to give it. He did but didn't. It was so oblique. He told her that she had to speak with Vance first, and it wasn't just his good graces she needed to court.

When she silently promised Gibbs that very morning to stop and talk to McGee and Tony when she had her first psych eval, she didn't realize it would be this hard. Her hands were sweaty, her throat was dry and she felt as if she just might throw up. She smiled when the guard greeted her as warmly as he always did, no trace of pity in his eyes. Perhaps her situation over the last four months hadn't gotten all over NCIS after all. It was a profound relief to her. She didn't need the speculation of what was done to her to be on so many minds. It was to private; too personal a thing. It was still too new and too raw and far too emotional.

Ziva got on the elevator and punched the floor number she needed. As the elevator ascended, a bead of icy cold sweat ran down her back and her stomach cramped painfully with nerves. She was definitely going to throw up. She tried not to think about it and fervently hoped that the only ones she'd see were Vance and Dr. Bracco. Maybe the boys would be out on a that crime scene that Gibbs got the call about earlier that morning.

No such luck. The elevator doors opened and there they were, arguing as usual. This time it was about whom was more handsome. As she stepped off the elevator, she said, "Actually, I find McGee to be the more handsome." She looked up at them and it was so hard, almost impossible. She could barely meet their eyes. "Nothing personal."

Tony just about lasered onto her. "Hi."

"Hello." She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. Why couldn't they be out on call?

Tony smile a little at her, sensing her reluctance to engage. "So what are you doing here?" he asked very gently. He didn't want to spook her.

Before she could answer, Director Vance stepped in. "David, with me."

"I guess that answers that question."

"I have to go." She hightailed it after Vance's retreating form, fighting the heightened feeling of nausea about to overtake her. She was beginning to wish that she didn't leave the Lodge that morning and had stayed buried in her blankets and pillows. She was almost safe there.

The meeting with Vance was about what she expected. He flat out told her that she needed to pass the psych evaluations before he'd even think about letting her back in any capacity. Ziva knew, without a doubt, that she'd have to rely on every ounce of her very formidable Mossad training to pass the evaluations. She knew she could do it if she stayed with the cold, hard facts. She snorted in disbelief that something that had damaged her beyond what most people could fathom was going to be the one thing that could keep her at NCIS. It was ridiculous.

If her first prolonged encounter with McGee and Tony was awkward at best, her first true encounter with Abby was confusing. She did not know whether to be ashamed or comforted. While Abby verbally attacked her for doubting Tony, she felt her eyes well with tears and then Abby shifted gears, sympathizing with her. And then on the attack again and it went on until Abby declared that she had been so worried and enveloped her in one of her warmest, loving bear hugs, making the tears well even higher in Ziva's eyes. The "Welcome Home Ziva" sign made her smile and tears slipped from her eyes. Abby had felt the breath hitch in her chest and immediately brought Ziva into her office and made her sit while she drew a chair close and held her.

"I'm sorry, Ziva. I didn't mean to be so rough on you,"Abby said, cuddling her dear friend close.

Ziva wiped at her eyes with the tissue that Abby had thrust into her hand. "No, you were right. I had a long time to think on it and you just said what I had thought for all those months. I was wrong and if I did not let my anger and pride get the better of me, I would have gotten on that plane and come home. If I had not let Eli manipulate me-"

"Ziva, no, don't," Abby said, her own eyes tearing up hearing the self recriminations that had tortured Ziva's mind, heart and soul for all those months. "Don't think those things. It wasn't your fault. You were taken advantage of because you were so raw. Ziva, people, no matter what training they have to shut parts of themselves off, are still very vulnerable when in that state. You were taken advantage of." Abby reached out and stroked Ziva's cheek, drying some of the last tears there. "It's not your fault. It never was. Nothing that happened to you was your fault. You were used."

Ziva's face crumpled again and fresh tears fell, washing another corner of her soul clean. "Thank you, Abby. You do not know what you just did for me."

Abby hugged her close. "Yes, I do," she whispered.

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Talking to McGee had been relatively easy, all things considered, that is, until he asked her about why she was still avoiding Tony. Suddenly, her mouth went dry and her hands moist and she had to throw up. Her stomach cramped painfully. "It is not that easy, McGee."

"Yeah, Tony said the same thing after we got you back home," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. He reached over and held her hand. "Nothing, right now, is easy for you, Ziva. I get that. I read the reports and I don't know how you had the strength to live through it. I'm sure that they weren't as complete as what you're living with inside."

"Please, McGee, no more. I do not need the entire Navy Yard see me cry."

He squeezed her hand. "I'm just saying that I think you're the bravest person I know, whether you cry or not. I'm glad we went and got you and I'm glad you're back home with us."

Her chin trembled and her eyes were wet, but she did not cry. She squeezed his hand back. "Thank you for that one. It means a lot."

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Tony did not make it easy on her at first. He deflected her little joke she tried to use to break the icy plateau that stretched between them. Then he deflected her awkwardness by trying to make light of the night he was attacked by and then killed Michael Rivkin. Ziva wanted to bolt from the mens' room right there. She made herself stay. She wasn't sure she could do it. How she had hurt him. She wasn't sure he could forgive her, not truly. Yes, he had come after her and taken her away from that terrifying place and he even said that he couldn't live without her...so why was this is hard? Her mouth dry and her stomach in one burning, pained knot, she began talking, finally looking up into Tony's eyes. The hard look there softened in mere seconds. Suddenly, all the care and concern and maybe something more shone through and it was easier to speak. When he told her that he was sorry, she was confused. She was the one doing the apologizing. She was the one that had been wrong all this time. She corrected him and his eyes went even softer, even more gentle. She cupped his cheek with one hand and softly kissed the other. She inhaled his scent and a flood of good memories of them both crashed through her as she pulled back. He had called her a genius and she didn't know why, but the light was back in his eyes and they were good again. Another little piece of her soul washed clean.

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Ziva wandered that basement for over an hour, waiting for Gibbs to come home. Feeling braver and bolder after passing her psychological evaluations and making things right with Abby, Tim and Tony, she knew that she needed to make things right with Gibbs. This might be the easiest talk or, perhaps the hardest one, she didn't know. What she did know is that when she came out of the mens' room after making things right with Tony and she saw Gibbs in the bull pen, she felt a distinctive chill emanate from him toward her and it bothered her. She had to make it right between them, no matter what it took her or from her. She had lost enough as it was.

Finally, he came down the basement stairs, only slowing when he noticed her leaning against the far wall.

"We need to talk," she said, simply. That icy cold blew at her. He was not angry, no. It felt like hurt or deep disappointment, possibly even betrayal. What had happened over the last week?

He pulled up an old wooden chair for her and a sawhorse for himself. "Sit down."

She sat, suddenly feeling that same sickening nervousness that she felt in the elevator on her way to her first meeting with Vance. "When I came to see you and said I wanted back, you said that it was the Director's call. But I sensed your hesitation. I sense it now, even though I thought I made myself clear. I understand what you did in Israel-"

Gibbs' voice was very soft when he spoke. It was laced with that same hurt she sensed before. "Your brother, Ari."

Ziva stood for a moment in shock. That was three years ago. How could that possibly have anything to do with Somalia? "You know what happened that night. I was here."

"I want to hear it from you," Gibbs said in that same soft, hurt tone. What Vance had told him made him second guess his gut with Ziva. He had forgotten what a spy was and how they could insinuate themselves into anywhere for the execution of a mission. Ziva had been a spy then and a trained assassin. And a trained liar. "You had orders to kill your brother to earn my trust."

"Yes."

"That's a problem."

Panic seized Ziva's heart, making it hurt. "You don't understand."

"You're damn right I don't understand," Gibbs said angrily, rising and coming to stand toe to toe with her. He could see her flinch slightly and he wanted to be softer with her, but she had lied before.

She desperately needed him to understand. "When I volunteered for the mission-"

Gibbs could see Ziva flailing in mid-air, but he had to know. He had to know that Vance was wrong. "You killed your own brother, Ziva!"

The panic rose and she fought it with everything she had left in her. He had to know the truth. He had to. "It was because I had hoped that my father was wrong about Ari! I did not want someone blindly following orders! I did it to protect him, Gibbs!" He had to remember that, even though she was Ari's Control Officer, she was also his sister and loved him. She tore part of her heart out when she pulled that trigger.

"You lied to me."

"No, when I told you Ari was innocent, I believed it. I would have lied to you. He was my brother and you were nothing. But I was wrong about Ari and you. When I pulled the trigger to save your life, I was not following orders. I mean, how could you think...he was my brother. And now he's gone. Eli is all but dead to me." Tears choked the back of her throat and misted her eyes. With her rejection of Eli, she was alone in the world with no family. Alone. "And the closest thing I have to a father is accusing me..."

Gibbs searched her dark eyes for any falsehood and could find none. She was telling the absolute truth. He had been right all these years and Vance, wrong. They were right to welcome her into the bull pen and their lives. They were right to care about her to hurt when she wouldn't get on that plane with them and they were right to go into Somalia, first, to avenge her death, but gratefully, to bring her home to them. "Okay."

The tears slid from her eyes as she watched Gibbs walk back up his stairs. There were footsteps overhead and then she heard the front door close, not a slam, but just close. She was right. This had been the hardest of all.

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Seeing the looks on McGee and Tony's faces had been priceless. She had gotten the call from Gibbs the day before telling her get her butt back to work since she passed her evaluations and he reminded her that she still had mandatory counseling sessions once a week with Dr. Bracco and he expected her to keep them.

So, now she sat in the bull pen with a beautiful bouquet of lilies on her desk and smile on her face as she exchanged glances with McGee. He grinned back at her and she knew it would all get better now. She could really start he healing process and come home to herself.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Interlude**_

_**chapter 11**_

After Ducky left the bull pen, Ziva fought to concentrate on the work sitting on her computer screen. His commentary only proved to bring her feelings far closer to the surface than she was comfortable with. She was so frustrated that her brain was cross-talking in five different languages, and none of them English or Hebrew. Some days she hated her linguistic prowess. Today was one of them. Ziva rubbed her temples and tried to will her rebellious brain into thinking in just one language, already, so she could actually get something accomplished.

"What;s wrong, Ziva?" Abby asked, coming to stand before her desk. That Ziva was rubbing her head as if it hurt had her concerned.

"Nothing. I am fine," she replied, grateful that she managed to reply in English.

Abby shook her head, pigtails swinging. "No, you're not. Either you tell me or I'll tell Gibbs. No more bottling it up, right?"

Ziva glared at her. "He's off on a case and so are DiNozzo and McGee," she replied, letting all the frustration she was feeling color her voice. She made it abundantly clear that she was not happy at the moment.

"Shouldn't you be-"

"Apparently not," Ziva snapped, clearly angry. "My position here is unclear now so I go nowhere. I feel useless enough to begin with." She shook her head. "I would rather not talk about it. What do you need, Abby?"

"Nothing. I'm just a little bored downstairs since Gibbs forbid me to freeze things with liquid nitrogen and break them anymore, unless a case calls for it," Abby said, taking a step back from the Israeli.

Ziva took sudden note of the wariness that sprang into the Forensics Expert's eyes. "Abby, wait. I am sorry," she said quickly, "I am just frustrated and angry right now. I do not like being in this unclear status and I took it out on you. I did not mean to."

Abby approached Ziva. "Would a hug help?"

Ziva looked up at her. "It could not hurt."

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A couple of hours later and three texts from McGee saying they were still at the crime scene had Ziva more upset and frustrated then she had been when they left. She glanced at her watch and made a decision. She needed to stop feeling this way.

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Ducky looked up from the cup of tea he was pouring. "Cup of tea, my dear?"

Ziva stepped all the way into Autopsy. She came to stand near him. "Thank you, Ducky. I'd like one."

As he poured her a cup, she sat across from him. "I am taking you up on your offer."

"Tea first and then talk," he pushed the cup toward her and then offered her a choice of a couple of delicate finger sandwiches. "It isn't lunch, but it'll fill a spot until the boys bring you something to eat. They're mostly my mother's cucumber sandwich recipe. It's what I enjoy the most and Mr. Palmer has become fond of them."

Ziva took a couple of wedges. "Thank you. They are my favorites as well. I spent some time running covert ops in the UK. Tea time was something I had to get used to and then, well, I came to enjoy. When I returned to Israel before coming here, I missed it very much, but it was so hard to fit it in. It still is when we are..." Her eyes went pained as she broke off.

"So, until we have had respite from the morning, we shall speak on your time in the UK. Where did you go and what did you see?" Ducky deflected expertly, knowing she wasn't ready to talk about her current situation at the moment, which, he surmised, that was why Director Vance had not approved her re-instatement just yet.

Ziva gave him a grateful smile. "I have toured the Tower of London. My favorite place was the Chapel or Peter Ad Vincula. Not only as it serene, but gently haunted by history's ghosts. I lost the tour while tracing my fingers over the Noble dead's names that were there. Two Queens of England laid their heads in that chapel and were buried beneath the altar floor. Powerful, Ducky."

He smiled at her, enjoying hearing her enthusiasm. "It is, my dear. Tell me more."

"Then my op lead me and my partner...that was Jenny Shepherd, Ducky... to chase our target into the countryside. We went over hills and dale, moors and fens. We nearly caught up with him in Glastonbury. He holed up at one Inn in town and we stayed in a Bed and Breakfast at the base of the Glastonbury Tor. He climbed that thing and so did we to keep on his trail. The Chalice Well Gardens are something I want to one day visit again because I did not get enough time, nor did I get to focus on anything but our target individual," Ziva relayed at length. She adored her time in the UK and it had many very happy memories for her. She nibbled her second sandwich wedge. "We caught him in Penzance...please no pirate jokes. Mossad and NCIS both gave Jenny and I time to just unwind from the op. We decided to spend time exploring southern England... I miss Jenny, Ducky."

"Concentrate on the fun you had together and that can help. Don't dwell on Jenny's death. It would have been painful and debilitating should she had lived. She was very sick with an incurable illness. That she went down fighting is a mercy. Never feel guilty about her. She was ill well after you both joined," Ducky said, pressing another wedge on Ziva. "She didn't know she was ill even before you partnered."

She sniffled. "I just miss Jenny so much sometimes. She was like Tali, a sister. I talk to her, just out loud as if she's in the room with me. The "advice" she gives me is my own. I sound insane, do I not?"

"Not at all, my dear," Ducky said, pouring her a second cup. "Especially if it helps you to work problems out. What has she said about your current situation?"

Ziva dropped his gaze and was silent for a long while. "I have not."

"Will you talk to me?" Ducky asked gently.

"That is why I am here."

"Go on, then. You know this will stay between us," Ducky assured her.

She sighed, then began. "You were right in the bull pen, earlier. I am angry. My position here is unclear and I am being a visitor when I used to be part of the team. Director Vance will not let me in the field where I know I can do good and he has me tied to my desk. I do not blame him, but it is making me feel useless."

"And that's all that's making you angry?" Ducky asked, knowing there was more to it than that.

"Mostly. I feel...disconnected, somehow; like there is no place for me anywhere. I do not belong in Mossad and I do not belong here. I am staying at the Navy Lodge because I have no permanent home and do not know if I will need one here," Ziva said, at length. "I do not like uncertainty and I never have."

"Of course not, my dear girl," Ducky said, soothingly. "Certainly not with the disciplined way you were raised. Keep going"

Ziva shook her head. "And then there is Gibbs and Tony. They are confusing me. They come all the way to Africa to avenge my death, tell me how much they care about me, even show me when we were in Germany, but now...I do not know. Tony is avoiding me and Gibbs, Gibbs seems angry with me. Why are they acting like this?"

Ducky sat forward and took her hands. "Ziva, remember that you avoided them when they first brought you home. You were supposed to stay at Jethro's and you insisted on staying at the Navy Lodge. Now I know you spoke with Jethro and made peace, that much he told me. It is entirely possible that he's holding you at arms length until your position is cleared. I think he's afraid of losing you again just after getting you back."

She nodded, sort of understanding. "I just want him to talk to me, that is all. This morning, well, you saw. He left without saying anything to me at all. He knows that I want to help in any way I can, and yet, he acts like he does not want my help. I am very confused by this, Ducky."

"Yes, I can see you are," he said, making a mental note to speak with Gibbs and see why he's been giving Ziva the cold shoulder. As he promised, he would not divulge one single word of this conversation. He saw the behavior that morning and that is how he can ask. "And what of Tony?"

Ziva felt her eyes well. She blinked the tears back. "After we talked last week, I thought we were good. I spoke from the heart and I apologized to him for everything. For not trusting him, for hurting him, for accusing him of murder. He accepted my apology and I thought that we were good. Apparently I am an idiot, because he has been acting like we are not. Perhaps he is still angry with me."

"You are many things, Ziva, and being an idiot is not one of them," Ducky said. "Give him a little time to process everything. I assure you that he is far from angry with you. He wasn't angry at all when he got in that jump seat back last May. If anything, he's been worried, no, I will be bluntly truthful, he has been terrified for you for months. Do you have any idea how euphoric he is that you are back and safe with all of us? He, and we, all care for you more than you can possibly realize. As you heal, we will all heal with you." Ducky watched as Ziva's chin began to quiver and a lone, fat tear splashed just to the right of her cucumber sandwich. "Come here, my dear Ziva. Come here," he said, opening his arms. It took all of five seconds before he held her close, allowing her to sob her heart out, he, rocking her and making soothing sounds in her ear. Ducky knew she had already come far from the nearly completely broken human being that they pulled out of that camp, but she had so much further to go before she was right again and the boys had to suck it up because she was not going to be able to withstand too many more hits like she already has had at the hands of her NCIS family."Come to Zaida."

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"Gibbs, DiNozzo, I need to speak with you," Ducky said, breezing through the bull pen. "I need you in Autopsy now."

Sharing puzzled looks, Gibbs and DiNozzo followed the coroner into the elevator where Ducky hit the kill switch. He had a full head of steam. Ziva was still recovering in Autopsy with tea and sandwiches and a box full of tissues. Palmer, back from lunch had been carefully read in and was acting as quiet support for her, handing her tissues or refilling her tea cup when needed. Ziva, being so fragile, frightened him.

Ducky's chest puffed out in his most protective mode."Do you two understand an iota of what you are doing to our Ziva? I know you both need some time, but she is desperate for some measure of affection from you two. You do realize that she has no relationship with her father after this. Gibbs, like it or not, you are her father figure from the day you took her out of that horrid camp, most likely far before that. Act like one. DiNozzo, you could not live without her and now you seemed determined to do just that. Cut out the crap, gentlemen and stop the head games with her because it's tearing her apart inside. She has endured far more than we have ever suspected and it has eroded her self-worth to nearly nothing. She wished that you left her to die. I want you to think on that. She told you that, DiNozzo, did she not? Yes, she did. It was in your report. Lick your wounds someplace else. You're far less damaged than she is right now. Do right by her and help her heal." Ducky hit the on switch and the elevator hummed to life.

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	12. Chapter 12

_**Interlude**_

_**Chapter 12**_

_**I do apologize for the long delay. I had a small writer's block in getting through from one spot to the next. I have now found the way and things will be quicker from now on. Thanks for continuing to read and review. If you review, please let me know what you like and don't like. It'll just make me a better writer and more worth your time to read.**_

_**Small translation:**_

_**Like in Malachai Ben Guidon, "Ben" means "son of" and is formal. For women "Bint" means "daughter of" and is very formal.**_

Ziva stared at her nearly blank email page for a long time. The two words staring back at her. "_Dear Father". _This had to be done immediately. She would not, could not put it off any longer. After Abby's brief and joyful interruption, quiet remained. Taking a deep breath, she began to type.

"_Dear Father,_

_I regret to inform you that I wish to resign my commission from Mossad, effective immediately. I will not be returning to Israel any time soon. I wish to remain in America and make a life for myself here._

_Ziva Bint David"_

She stared at the screen for a few moments, her signature extremely formal and something she only remembered signing during her commission in Mossad, reflecting on what a monumental thing this was in her life. But Mossad did not send an extraction team as they should have when she did not check in. NCIS this TEAM that she was a part of, even as a foreign Liaison Officer, did. A little late, but they came for her. They cared whether her body still had life in it; whether she still had the breath of life in her. Closing her eyes briefly, she hit SEND. It was done and she could not take it back. As of that moment, her identity of being a Mossad Officer was ripped away from her by her own choice. Eli could send an assassin to remove her from the human race for what she knew. Ziva knew in her gut that he wouldn't. He wouldn't because he knew that he had failed her. Why kill her for his own failure? She lowered her face into her hands, willing the welling eyes to just dry up already. She was so weary of crying, but that email was the hardest she'd ever had to write. She never thought that she'd ever wish to resign her commission in Mossad. She always thought she would leave Mossad the way most Officers did-in a body bag after a failed mission that they were too slow or caught completely off guard, not voluntarily while still in her prime. Heaving a heavy sigh, she turned off her monitor, her light, took her things and headed back to the Navy Lodge.

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Ziva opened the door to the small suite of rooms that she had been calling home for the last few weeks. She was exhausted from the tension that she constantly felt in the bull pen. From force of habit, she turned on ZNN for news. Suddenly, her homeland flashed on screen. News of a suicide bomb attack in the Golan Heights region was broadcast over the screen. Worry and fear permeated her entire being. She had friends there. Her heart constricted in her chest and she found it hard to breathe. This would be all the information she would have from now on. She thought of calling Avi and Rivka, but they were Mossad. So were Ariel and Joseph and Avner. Hannah wasn't, but Ziva remembered that she said she'd be in Greece for the month of September on vacation. With a strangled cry she shut the T.V. off and flung the remote across the room.

Tears of anger and frustration and a very sharp and sudden sense of loss of self poured down her cheeks. She desperately wanted to call her father, even though she hated him with every fiber of her being then, and beg him for news, but after her email, she knew he'd give her none. With that single, terse email, she forfeited her right to up to the minute information. Eli David had no obligation to tell her a single thing.

As she wiped at the tears still falling, she suddenly became extremely angry. No, it was HE who forfeited HER when he knowingly sent her into the desert on what was a suicide mission and then sent in no extraction team to even see if she drew breath after the first missed contact. She had never felt more alone in her life. She longed for someone to hold her, comfort her, tell her that everything would be alright; that she'd recover; that she truly belonged somewhere. That she still had an identity.

She nearly called one of the team, but resisted that overwhelming urge. She still didn't know where she really stood with any of them. This wasn't like she'd screwed up a lunch order. She'd hurt them all immeasurably and although they all said they forgave her, they still kept her at arm's length, as if she were a seemingly tamed animal that could go feral at any moment.

Instead of picking up the phone, she got up and drew herself a hot bubble bath. While the tub was filling, she poured herself half a glass of wine. Maybe the bath and the wine could calm her down a little. This was something she seldom did since she preferred the swiftness of a shower. For as long as she could remember, she had always regarded bubble baths to be something that Mossad Officers did not indulge in. Jenny Shepherd had changed her mind on that when were running an op in England. Ziva gotten pretty banged up and had been in a good deal of pain. When she and Jenny got back to their hotel, Jenny had drawn Ziva a hot bath with Epsom salts and persuaded her to get in. She had been very skeptical, but did as she was asked and found that it helped, not only her protesting muscles, but it had relaxed her as well. Now this was something she did only when she needed it.

She turned off the tap and sunk into the hot water and amber scented bubbles, placing her wine glass on the edge of the tub. She looked down at herself, noticing that her bruises were nearly gone and most of her scars had begun to fade. They would never truly disappear, but they would fade. She absently traced the outlines on her once, nearly flawless skin. Suddenly, something fat and wet dropped into the water, and another, and another. Ziva did not realize that she had begun to cry again, and, with the tears, returned the overwhelming sense of loss of self. Who was she now? What did she want to do? She knew what she was. She was now a survivor of torture and rape from a foreign terrorist camp, her body a maze of healing scars, her soul trying to heal as well. She knew what she wasn't. She was no longer an Officer in Mossad, nor was she the Liaison Officer attached to NCIS. She wasn't really anything anymore. What did she want? What was she qualified to do? As Ziva dried the last of the tears from her face with a washcloth and began to wash, she suddenly knew what she truly wanted. She knew that she'd have to sacrifice another, precious part of herself, but she was willing to do it.

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The next morning, Ziva arrived in the bullpen even before Gibbs and went up to Director Vance's office. She had seen the light on in his window from the street so she knew he was in. She knocked softly.

"Come in," Vance called, wondering just who could be at the Navy Yard so early. He couldn't hide his surprise when Ziva walked in, closing the door behind her. He leaned forward and folded his hands on his desk. "What can I do for you, Miss David?"

She paced nervously, mouth dry, palms moist. The idea sounded so great last night... "Director Vance, I have given this much thought and...I, uhm, I...I would like to...ask you for an, uhm, application to be an NCIS Agent."

Vance now leaned back in his chair and regarded her carefully. She had been through literal hell and back and she had some serious baggage. However, he had been keeping an eye on her for the last several weeks as she struggled with trying to readjust to freedom again. He couldn't say that he was disappointed. She displayed a tenacity that he didn't expect. Finally, he spoke. "You will have resign from Mossad and, should you be accepted as a Probationary Agent, you will need to give up your Israeli citizenship and become an American citizen. Are you prepared to do that?"

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Dinozzo was gone, schoozing his way with the female agent and McGee finally had a clue why he had to take his polygraph over again. The bull pen was empty save for Ziva and Gibbs. She needed to talk with him, needed his approval. Of all the people in the world, she needed him to...to be...to be her Abba. She was entirely truthful when she told him that he was the one man in the world she looked to as a father. She needed Gibbs to okay this. It was a huge move in her life. She needed Gibbs.

She stood and hurried over to Gibbs' desk as soon as McGee was out of sight. "Being stuck at that desk has given me plenty of time to think. Being a visitor here is..wrong."

He looked up at her, hope in his eyes that she had finally made the right choice. "What does that mean, Ziva?"

She thrust a paper on his desk and swallowed hard. She needed him to say it was okay. She already confessed to him that he was her Abba, that Eli was all but dead to her. He had to approve. If he didn't...she did not wish to think of that option. "Need your signature on this. I want to be an NCIS Agent." She figetted nervously, unable to stand still. She was worried, frightened, even that Gibs might not sign off on her future. She didn't know where she'd go or what she'd do if he said "no".

Gibbs' heart soared hearing that she wanted to stay with the team, the family. Yet, he felt that he needed to be the Devil's Advocate. "I don't know if that's possible. You would have to resign from Mossad."

Ziva stood straighter. "Already have. I sent my father an email."

Gibbs pride in her took up another notch. She had the "balls" to take on her father, one of the most powerful men in the world, and defy him. She certainly had untold amounts of courage. He had to ask. "What does he think about that?"

Her answer was susinct. "Does not matter."

With a final look into her very determined eyes, yet the pain they held, just lingering behind the determination, he agonized over signing off on her re-instatement, but not as a Mossad Officer, but as a Probationary NCIS Agent. She had baggage, so much baggage, but so did he and he was a damn good Agent. Sometimes that pain kept him on an even keel and kept him focused. Maybe hers would too. Maybe it would be her undoing. She already was a good Agent. His heart clenched. She was his heart's daughter. Could he willingly assent to placing her in harm's way because she chose to be a Federal Agent? He looked into her eyes that never shut up and signed off on her paperwork. His daughter of his heart would work with him and he'd protect her as much as he could and give her freedom in her life.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Interlude**_

_**Chapter 13**_

_**A/N: This is sort of a filler chapter, but one that can explain the shift in attitudes between Ziva and Gibbs and Dinozzo. A little reconnection and bonding. Tiva and Gibbs father/daughter bonding. Thanks for reading. Reviews would be nice. Good or ill.**_

Nerve wracking as it was with Gibbs staring her down, a sense of euphoria enveloped her when he took his pen and finally signed his name on the line, giving her his permission to be a Probationary NCIS Officer...no...Agent.

Taking that as a good sign along with the fact that Gibbs had brought her coffee a while ago, she screwed up her courage to ask a favor, not as her boss, but as her friend. She was so tired of waking in the middle of the night alone and frightened, haunted with nightmares, and finding out about the bombing the other night just made her feel that much more alone. "Gibbs, could I...I mean I enjoy my suite at the Navy Lodge, but, could I please stay at your place tonight? I understand if-"

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Ziva. Director Vance hasn't approved your papers just yet." Gibbs countered, eying her closely. She looked like she hadn't slept much and something was bothering her in the worst way. She had been upset all day and tried to hide it. He knew what Ducky told him and DiNozzo and guessed that that was part of it, but what else, he was at a loss. It could be anything with everything she'd been through.

Ziva's eyes showed the disappointment she felt inside. "Oh...I'm...I'm sorry to have asked," she said, softly. She turned to go.

"Ziver, I only said I wasn't sure if it was a good idea. I didn't say no," Gibbs said. It broke his heart to watch her shoulders collapse and her head hang down the way it did. "So if ya wanna use my guest room, it's all yours. I have some hamburger meat in the fridge and an ear if you want to talk."

Ziva turned and smiled at him. It was the first real smile he'd seen from her since before Rivkin. It was wonderful for him to see and he found himself smiling back.

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Gibbs heard the knock on his front door. Only Ziva or Abby would ever knock. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and answered the door.

"Hello, Gibbs," Ziva said.

"Come on in," Gibbs replied. "You know I don't stand on ceremony, Ziver. Make yourself at home and I'll start on those burgers."

Ziva dropped her overnight bag by the door and slung the reuseable grocery bag over the same shoulder. "If you do not mind, Gibbs, since you were so kind as to allow me to stay here, I would like to make the dinner. I stopped off at the market and bought a couple of things. May I?"

Away from NCIS, he always found that he could never deny her anything. "If you want to, 'though, I make one mean burger."

She smiled that genuine smile again and his heart took a leap. She really was coming back to them all. She really was healing; his heart's daughter. "So do I, since coming to America. I have learned a thing or three." There was a friendly air of challenge in her voice.

Gibbs took up the challenge. "Yeah, David? You make the burgers tonight and I'll make 'em tomorrow night and we'll see who makes the best burger."

"You are on, Gibbs. I believe the kitchen is mine tonight," Ziva said, playfully pushing past him and moving off to the kitchen.

Gibbs found himself smiling at her retreating form, her old, confident gait back...almost. She was sporting a slight limp, favoring her left leg. He was a trained investigator and would have noticed that by now. He followed her into his kitchen. "Need any help?"

"I have the job in my hand, Gibbs. I think that I can find everything I need."

He regarded her for a while before speaking. "You're limpin'."

She stilled. "You noticed. Of course you noticed. To get me to talk, Saleem fractured my left hip. I was tended to, for once, but it is not healing well. There is nothing I can do. It will hurt when it rains. I am still crime scene worthy, Gibbs. I will work hard and-"

"All I care about is that you heal the best you can. The weather is already fall damp and D.C. is built on a swamp. My knee is killing me, too, so, I know. You can be in the field and collect evidence. It just sucks on damp days. I know if you need to chase down a running dirtbag, you'll do it and take the grunt candy after," Gibbs said, giving a little bit of his life over to her. Trust was a two way street. He understood, he really did and made a mental note to gift her with a family sized bottle of Ibuprophen-or Grunt Candy- as it was called.

"Yeah," she said, softly, grateful for his understanding, then went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer and popped it open. She handed it to Gibbs. "Go and relax and dinner will be ready soon."

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Gibbs relaxed on his couch after, what he considered, a damn fine meal. Ziva had brought her culinary A game with a bacon provolone mushroom burger with the best homemade french fries he had ever eaten that just nearly blew him away. He would be hard pressed to impress her tomorrow night. In the months that they all thought her dead, Gibbs willed himself to forget about all the things that endeared her to him. He tried to distance himself from the pain of loss. Now that they found her and brought her home, he found himself flooded with fond memories and he was glad for them. He was glad that he had come to love her like the daughter he should have had. He loved her nearly as much as he would have Kelly. As he calculated, she was just a few years older than his Kelly would have been.

"Ziver, that was one mean burger. The fries weren't bad, either," he praised her in his understated way.

She blushed, knowing it to be high praise and that she just about made him filet minon, taking a sip of her beer. "Thank you." She hesitated and then blurted out, "It was turkey bacon. I may not keep Kosher, but I still cannot bring myself to eat pork. Sorry, Gibbs."

"Nothin' to apologize for," he said. "I never say what I don't mean and you know that, Ziver. It was a damn fine burger. I liked the turkey bacon. Wasn't greasy and added extra flavor. I'm gonna have to work hard tomorrow night to try to impress you."

She laughed, looking down, unused to praise after so many months of being degraded, dehumanized. Ziva found herself smiling, even giving a small chuckle. "Toda. Thank you. I am glad you liked it. It has been the first time I have cooked since..."

"I know," Gibbs said, quietly. "Grab your beer. You're helpin' me with my boat. Price for staying here." He got up and started for the basement. It didn't matter who came to him, the basement and working on the boat always seemed like magical healing. Maybe it would help his dear, sweet, beloved, troubled Ziva, too. Something was clearly bothering her and it did not involve him and DiNozzo and their behavior toward her. He made it a note to himself to make certain DiNozzo was invited for dinner tomorrow night. He may make the burgers, but David was going to make a repeat performance with those unbelievable fries and they all were going to hash it out and heal, most likely over the boat and some bourbon. Abby said there was magic in his basement. He hoped she was right.

Ziva followed him. Wood working wasn't something she was experienced in, but she could learn. She remembered that last Hannukah, Gibbs had given her a beautifully, intricately carved Star of David ornament. That he took the time and care to make it for her, this unbelievable three dimensional carved piece of beauty touched her more than anything she could remember, other than her Bat Mitzvah Star of David necklace her father had given her in his love and pride when she read flawlessly from the Torah. When she marveled over the exquisite ornament and asked him where he got it, he just shrugged and said, "Made it for ya".

"Gibbs, I do not know any woodworking," she said as she came to stand at the bottom of the stairs, uncertain as what to do. The basement smelled like Gibbs. A little sweat and lots of wood and a little bourbon. It was pleasant and comforting. Ziva began to relax further, despite the confrontation they had just had recently. That was obviously history. He had begun a beautiful new boat.

He aimed a slight smile at her and opened his arms, a sanding pad in one. "Good. I can teach you. Come here."

She settled in between his arms and he placed a block of sandpaper in her hands. He placed his hands over hers and guided them. "See the up and down grain inside the wood? With the grain and never against, Ziva. Always with the grain. With the grain is the strongest." He instructed, guiding her hands. He stopped and watched her for a while. "Good job. Now keep going."

She did and soon was enjoying it all. It really was soothing and she did not wonder any longer why Gibbs built boats, though, for the life of her, she had no idea how he got them out of the basement. She'd seen only one of his, completed, and it was a thing of beauty.

Gibbs watched her out of the corner of his eye as she worked. He watched her slowly relax and then, finally, a small smile graced her lips. The magic of woodworking was having it's effect on his most damaged and troubled of his team, his "family". It was good to see her smile again. "Ducky laid into me for how rudely I treated you the other day. He was in the bull pen and saw me just blow past you. My mind was honestly on the case and I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, if I did hurt 'em. Ducky was pretty convinced that I did."

Ziva kept sanding, wondering if her conversation with Ducky had made it into him calling Gibbs out on the way he had treated her. No, Ducky said he'd never tell. But, she did need to be honest with him. "I was hurt, a little. I had thought everything was better between us and then you seemed to just dismiss me as if I did not matter. I should have-"

"No, Ziver, I forgot that you're still feelin' your way back in and I didn't help," Gibbs said, cutting her off. "I didn't have my head on straight where you're concerned, and I should have."

Ziva sighed and graced him with a small smile. "Thank you, Gibbs."

Gibbs watched her a while longer. "I know my behavior toward you yesterday and part of today isn't the only thing bugging you today. There has to be a reason you wanted to stay here tonight. Talk."

Ziva stopped sanding and stood very still. "The bombing in Golan Heights yesterday. I have many friends there. I have-had my apartment there. I cannot call Eli for information after the email I sent. I just want to know if everyone is alright. I cut my ties with Mossad with such great timing, did I not? I can only get the information that you can on ZNN. So I know nothing of them." A lone tear rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away. Her chin trembled and she willed herself not to cry. "I am just worried, Gibbs. By now Eli will have ordered those I worked with in Mossad to cease contact with me and to report to him if I tried to contact them. Most of my close family is long dead and Eli will tell me nothing and I know it. I am so scared for them. I know what it is like. I lived my whole life in Israel. I lost my mother and my little sister to terrorists." She was quiet for a short while, willing back tears and only being partly successful. A few tears were squeezed from her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was a whisper. "So this is what it is like to be in exile."

Gibbs couldn't stand seeing her like this. He knew what it was like to worry over those you loved and be unable to get any information on them. He walked to her and gently took her by her upper arms and held her gently. "When we go in in the morning, I'll get you that intel. I'll make it sound like we had people in the area and they'll need to release a list of names. If they don't want to start a pissing match between our countries, one that is their friend, they'll give me the names. If they don't give them to me, they sure as hell are gonna give them to Leon. Does that help?"

Ziva nodded, unsure of her voice. Gibbs pulled her into a tight hug and felt her tremble. "It's gonna be fine, Ziver. I promise." He felt her put her arms around him and hug him with a strength almost normal for her. He had forgotten how strong she was. "Can't breathe."

Ziva began to laugh and let go of him. It was just enough for her to let go of her tears. "Thank you, Gibbs. Sorry I squeezed so tight."

"Just means you're gettin' better." Gibbs went over to his workbench and cleared out a mason jar and grabbed his coffee cup. He took out his usual bottle of bourbon and poured a couple of fingers in each. Being the gentleman, he held out the coffee cup to Ziva. She took it, even though she had not yet finished her beer. "To new beginnings," Gibbs toasted and sipped back a good swallow.

Ziva raised the coffee cup and said, "To new beginnings." She proceeded to drain the cup in a long swallow.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "That's impressive, Ziver. I can't even do that."

"Mossad training. It comes with a price." She held her stomach with one hand. "Burns like hell when you do that."

He allowed himself a small smile. "Refill?"

"Please."

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Gibbs, breezed back into the bull pen after almost an hour with Director Vance in MTAC. He casually tossed a sheet of paper on Ziva's desk. "There ya go. Names. You let me know if you know anyone."

Ziva smiled up at him and nodded. "Thank you, Gibbs." She started scanning the names.

Tony looked up from his keyboard. What just went on between Gibbs and Ziva? "Boss?"

"Terrorist bombing in Golan Heights, DiNozzo. She needs names," Gibbs said simply, letting his senior field agent figure out the rest for himself.

"Oh, God," Tony breathed, understanding immediately why she'd need names...wounded and dead. He watched her closely as she read the list of names. Her chin began to tremble and her eyes filled with tears. "Boss..."

Gibbs didn't need DiNozzo's warning to see that Ziva knew someone, possibly several someones. He rose, but Tony rose faster and went over to her desk. "Ziva, mens' room or conference room?"

She shook her head and fought the tears. "I am fine."

"Bullshit. Come with me," he said and pulled her to her feet. She didn't even put up a physical protest as he tugged her to the elevator. They got on and he hit the stop button. "The names; who do you know?"

She shook her head, unwilling to involve him in her pain. "No."

He gently grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. "Who do you know? Ziva, I can't be here for you if you don't talk to me. Who did you lose?"

Her chin trembled further and she wiped furiously at her eyes. It was useless to try to tough it out. She would have cracked and cried at work even if she hadn't been held in a terrorist prison camp. "Avi and Rivka Rubenstein and their daughter, Sarai. Sarai was only seven."

Tony's own eyes teared as he wrapped his arms around Ziva. "I am so sorry about your friends. I'm so sorry."

She could only nod as her legs gave out and she and Tony slid to the floor. The grief was overwhelming. Avi and Rivka were almost lifelong friends and she had been in the delivery room when little Sarai was born. She spoke at the baby naming ceremony as one of the adults promising to help her grow up to be a good person. Sarai's middle name was Ziva. She snorted in derision at that promise now. At the time she was still a Mossad assassin; an assassin. How was that going to help Sarai to grow up to be a good person? What did it matter now, anyway? They were all gone. How much more could she possibly lose? Ziva buried herself in Tony's embrace and wept inconsolably as he gently rocked her, murmuring soothing sounds into her hair.

Finally, after quite a long while, Ziva's tears subsided and she just remained in Tony's arms, gathering herself together. When she felt she could speak, she looked up into Tony's very concerned face. "I do not think the words 'thank you' are sufficient for what you just did for me. All of it."

Tony gave her a slight hug. "Don't worry about it. Partners do things for each other. I would do it in a heartbeat if you ever need it again. All of it." He looked at her tear-stained face and puffy eyes. "I'd suggest that you stop in the Ladies' and splash a little water on your face before you come back into the bullpen. Or should I tell Gibbs that you need to go? It's understandable with the list and all."

"Thank you, Tony, but I will stay. I do not wish to be alone right now. I would dwell too much..." Ziva said as the elevator doors opened. "Tell Gibbs...tell Gibbs that I will be right there."

Tony nodded and went directly to the bullpen.

"How is she, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

Tony looked over at his boss. "Bad. A family of three and from her reaction, they were very close. She's devistated. She's washing her face right now in the Ladies'. I don't know how many more hits she's going to be able to take,..."

He knew. He had seen it in her eyes that very morning before he gave her that list. "Uh-huh. She's been through too much as it is. She want to take the day?" Gibbs asked, worried over her.

Tony shook his head. "No, she said that she wanted to stay, Boss."

"Probably for the best," Gibbs said as he watched Ziva re-enter the bullpen. Her eyes were still very red and the color on her cheeks was blotchy, but she was putting a brave face on it. Staying in a safe environment with those that loved her was better than being alone in a hotel room. He got up and walked over to her desk. Gibbs leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I am so sorry for your loss. Anything you need, just ask. You don't have to be here today. Go back to my place and get the burgers ready for tonight. I get to impress you, remember?" He placed a soft kiss to her temple.

Her eyes welled again at his understanding and tenderness, but she controlled it. "I can stay. I can do this. Let me stay."

He gave her a measured look. "Okay, you stay, but if you even have the slightest doubt, you go to my place and you work on that boat until I get home. No bourbon, either. I don't want my boat screwed up. You go sand. And you prep the burgers you, me and DiNozzo are going to eat tonight. And you cut those fries of yours. Don't you dwell on the Ugly. You leave that to me." Seeing that she was about to cry again, he pulled her into a hug. "Don't you dare cry on me at work. You are a prospective Probationary Special Agent and Special Agents don't cry at work. You can let it out tonight and I can forgive sadness at work." He felt her shake and give in and he just rocked her, speaking softly. "Okay, this is sadness at work. It's going to be okay. You get to be sad now." He held her closer, kissing her head. "You got terrible news. You get to be sad now. You get to be sad now." He held her as she broke down again. He held her and rocked her in her grief. It was too profound.

No one understood how lifelong close she was with the Rubensteins. She knew Avi and Rivka from the first grade. Lifelong, and the pain was unbelievable, worse since Sarai. She was supposed to guide her to be a good person. "I can't, Gibbs. My whole life...I knew them almost my whole life. Childhood friends...my friends. I was right there when Sarai was born...in the Delivery room, holding Rivka's hand the whole time. Sarai. I was Sarai's Godmother... I love them all. Oh God, I can't, I can't."

Gibbs' heart broke. He truly sort of understood Ziva's grief. It was far more profound than he guessed. But he tried. "DiNozzo, take her to my place and set her to work on the boat and stay with her. Let her talk it out. Get more bourbon if that's what's needed to loosen her tongue. Get her to talk. Use

the bourbon. She's hurtin' bad. She lost loved ones today and is afraid to talk about it. Get her to talk. She needs Ducky. She needs Ducky. I do not know what to do for her. She needs Ducky... Do what you can. She's in so much pain. Help her."

Tony scooped up a devistated Ziva and brought her to Autopsy, inconsolable weeping self to Ducky. "Bad news and she's having a very hard time." Tony supplied. "Very grief - striken. From what I understand, they were tight since being little kids..losing them now, I can't fathom. They are and from the reports, ...gone and horribly. From what she said, known them since little kids. Little kids. She needs time. Ducky, you gotta help her... After you, Gibbs wants me to take her to his place and get her to work on the boat."

Ducky understood immediately and enveloped Ziva in an all encompassing hug. "My dear girl, My dear, dear girl..."

"They are gone and I can not even attend... I cannot be there to grieve. Oh God, Sarai was only a child She was an innocent in all of this! She bore my name. Ziva is her middle name .She was only seven and innocent in what her parents and I did. She was innocent. How can I live with this?" Ziva dissolved into more tears in Ducky's arms.

"Oh my, dear, dear girl," he whispered to her. He waved Palmer off to make tea and to get those lovely finger sandwiches out of the refrigerator that Ducky made every morning, always anticipating someone needing solace. He'd be a fool thinking that everyone would be fine all the time. Today, as it has been since she was brought home from Somalia, Ziva. "We will have some nice tea and cucumber sandwiches that you love and then we are going to Jethro's place to rest."

"I don't deserve rest. I've hurt so many. I have killed so many."

Ducky stroked her hair and kissed her head. "Of course you deserve rest and solace. That pain is over. You're home now. You did what you were ordered to. Orders, not your will. You are not guilty. Rest. Just rest, my dear, hurt Ziva. My dear granddaughter.. Rest, Sweetheart."

"But Sarai, poor Sarai?...So young? My Goddaughter!"

Ducky hugged her tight. "She knew you were her loving Godmother, right?"

"Yes."

"Then she knew that she was loved." He said, simply. "She was so loved. I know you, Ziva, better than you know yourself, sometimes. You need to step back and grieve. Let Jethro, Tony and Tim be there for you. They want to be. Let yourself grieve in front of them. They won't run in horror or rejection. They'll hold you up while you grieve and they will understand as you heal. Trust them, Ziva.,You won't be disappointed."

She nodded as she buried herself deeper into Ducky's embrace. "That's my girl...that's my girl. Bury yourself. You'll come out stronger, you'll see."

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Several cups of tea and a few cucumber sandwiches later, Ducky declared Ziva ready to transport, but not home..home was still not clear, but to Gibbs place to rest. Ziva found herself in the basement, sanding the spines of the new boat. It soothed her. She sipped the Irish Breakfast tea that Ducky gave her. That was soothing, too. She didn't hear Gibbs come home until he dropped his "go bag" on the living room floor. Her head shot up and then she heard his familiar stride across the floor ad relaxed. There was a measured clumping down the stairs. "Hello, Gibbs."

"Hey, Ziver. You prep those burgers like I said?"

"I did."

Gibbs gave a half smile at her. "Good because DiNozzo is coming over and you know how he can be."

Ziva glanced up at him. "Culinarily, a lot like you. You refuse to eat crap food. You prefer the good stuff and dislike fast food. You don't even like several of the pizzarias near the Navy yard because they carry "crap on a crust", she said. "and you know that Tony is a decent cook. You have a very global palate, though you choose to not advertize it. You had to because you did covert ops in Europe with Jenny. You had to blend in. Why do you think I'm not observant Jewish and do not keep Kosher? Blending in. It is the spy game and I had to, no matter how much my faith screamed in my mind to not do it. I am free to do this here and I still relax it only partly. How many fries do you wish me to make while you impress me with the burgers?"

Gibbs smiled at her, understanding. "How many potatoes do you have left after making the tower you did yesterday?"

"You need to go to the grocery store."


End file.
